


Ambidextrous

by Nadramon



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gilbert tries to fight off the brainwashing and save the world at the same time, M/M, Other, Spoilers, Tragedy, identity crisis, not an easy task
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 82,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadramon/pseuds/Nadramon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how many times he changed his name, Gilbert would never belong anywhere. He simply hopes that his master can be saved. The question is: does he still have one?</p>
<p>[Alternate continuity from "Retrace 74" onwards.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baskerville

**Author's Note:**

> It all started at 6:19am on a Thursday morning. It was too hot and I couldn’t sleep. "Retrace 74" was depressing. I normally don’t like introspective fics all that much, but I was in no state to deny a wild plotbunny. In the end I couldn’t seem to find any better way to cope than trying to figure out how Gilbert’s mind works.
> 
> My conclusion is that it goes like this: “Let’s try and see the best in everyone or, failing that, the worst in me.” Such a cuddly fellow, our Gil is.
> 
> Originally a one-shot, _Ambidextrous_ is now a four-chapter long alternate continuity to the _Pandora Hearts_ manga, from "Retrace 74" onwards. The story mostly revolves around Gilbert’s identity crisis, but explores each character’s reaction to recent events.
> 
> This chapter was beta-read by brumal. Enjoy!

  
_“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you_ can _make words mean different things.”_

_“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master—that’s all.”_

(“Humpty Dumpty,” from Lewis Carroll’s _Through the Looking-Glass_ )

 

His master was broken.

It was the one clear thought in Gilbert’s head, the sole truth he was certain of. He had trouble wrapping his mind around it. Who his master was, what got broken, how it had all come to this. He also knew that he couldn’t move on if he didn’t understand.

He was back at the Nightray household. As it turned out, Vincent had been using it as a headquarters for the Baskervilles all along. Furthermore, his little brother had known from Day One that Gilbert was one of them. Should he be angry at Vincent for hiding that fact? Or grateful?

No, he was angry. Vincent never told him anything. Nothing about his memories, his illegal contract, or what he was plotting. No matter how many times Gilbert asked, Vincent always feigned ignorance for his sake. Always assumed he knew what was best for Gilbert, better than his older brother did.

He could feel his concern in the iron grip Vincent had on his arm, like he was afraid his brother might dissolve and slip right through his fingers if he ever let go. It had always been like this: Vincent’s insatiable need of physical contact, and Gilbert trying to keep his brother’s feelings at bay. Another case of co-dependency was the last thing either sibling needed. Distance might keep their relationship somewhat stable, or so Gilbert had thought.

Vincent never let go. If Gilbert looked up, he knew he would meet mismatched eyes staring sideways at him, wide with misplaced love and worry. He had failed his younger brother as much as his master, unable to protect him as a child and as an adult. For all his wit and expertise, Vincent had been manipulated for a century, and his brother had been none the wiser. From the looks of it, every single person Gilbert was supposed to protect had become Jack’s tool. And Gilbert had been the man’s most _zealous_ clueless pawn.

Maybe Vincent was right. By protecting Gilbert from himself, he had protected Oz indirectly all this time....

_Oz._

Gilbert shuddered. The impulse to throw Vincent off, get up and flee the room was strong. Everything from the tall paintings on the walls to the glowing fireplace that projected distorted shadows on the carpet made him antsy. It seemed like the old smell of blood clung to the furniture, like reproachful ghosts of the murdered noblemen and women. His fellow Baskervilles, sitting in a circle on the armchairs around the low table, looked out of place in the Nightray living room. Almost like an insult. Elliot would have thrown a fit.

_Elliot._

Raven’s contractor glanced over at the man who wore Leo’s face. The valet and best friend of his adopted sibling. Glen Baskerville. _His master._ God, what would Elliot _think?_

His headache was unrelenting. Elliot was dead and there was nothing left of the Nightray household. Nothing but this empty room and two siblings who never belonged there. Had Gilbert ever been Elliot’s older brother? The teenager had called him that when he had contracted the family Chain. Gilbert had been pleased, but he had never believed him until Oz had described them as siblings, too. If his master said it, then it had to be true.

_Master._

Oz wasn’t here anymore, and whether or not Elliot Nightray had been his brother was not something Gilbert could ask Glen Baskerville. Especially not a Glen with Leo’s face and Oswald’s voice. Accepting. Forgiving. Glad to have them all back together.

Gilbert struggled to clear his throbbing head and acknowledge the people around him. He could hear their hushed voices over the crackling flames, like they were trying not to disturb him. No doubt the order had come from their master. Glen Baskerville could feel Gilbert’s shame and decided to let him mourn in silence for the time being. He was considerate. Gilbert had to be worthy of his thoughtfulness. Had to get his act together.

He felt naked without the hat he got from Ada. As soon as they had arrived, Gilbert had made haste to hang it on the mantelpiece, lest further contact with his skin might dirty it. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he didn’t dare smoke in front of his master.

Gilbert was getting the impression that he wasn’t alone in this turmoil. He could make out the other Baskervilles beneath the wavy black bangs that fell in front of his eyes, all of them silent and respectful when their master talked. Even the kid, Lily, who sat on the impassive Doug’s lap and kept glaring daggers at Gilbert when she thought no one was looking. Apparently she hadn’t forgiven him for helping Break kill Fang. One of them. Gilbert was a traitor and a failure. Yet Glen had forgiven him.

The woman on his right, Lottie, didn’t seem to know what to do with this Glen. She was flustered and kept shifting in her precarious position, perched on the left arm of her armchair. She stared unblinkingly at their master like she was afraid he would disappear if she tore her eyes away for one second. Yet there was something unsure about her, a confused daze that looked like a complex mix of joy and disappointment. Gilbert could relate.

The one he was most afraid to look at – _except for his master whom he had failed, failed on so many levels_ – was the chuckling girl standing sentinel at the door. The mere sound was enough to draw the man’s right hand to his holster like a hateful magnet. How many times had Gilbert heard this mocking cackle in his sleep, how many of those dreams had ended with this infuriating noise dying on a gurgle after a gunshot....

Gilbert buried his face in his hand and realized he was trembling. He barely heard Vincent’s solicitous inquiry over the static between his ears. In reality the gunshot had killed Echo as surely as it had broken Oz, the Noise had taken over and now Zwei was laughing and laughing and laughing…

“Gilbert.”

The man straightened automatically to look at Leo’s serene face with wild eyes. He must have looked like a madman.

“Master?”

The possessed boy heaved a sigh that sounded way too weary for his age and laid a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. The man recoiled. He was unworthy.

Glen was unbothered by his reaction: “You can go rest in your room for a while if you’d like. We can fill you in on the details later. You’ve done more than enough.”

There was a tight feeling in Gilbert’s chest. _Enough._ He had shot Oz. He had shot _Oz._

Yet his master was right here, smiling at him with this sad expression that Gilbert remembered so clearly, it was suffocating. This sadness he understood only now, when it was far too late. His master was dead and the world was ending. All because of Jack.

But did Gilbert have any right to blame Jack when he had been the one to tell Glen to trust the man? When he had been the one to stand between them and allow Jack to use him as a hostage and then deal the final blow? When, all because of Gilbert’s foolishness, Oz had been forced to kill by his contractor?

_Oz is a Chain. Oz is B-Rabbit._

How was this possible? The world was ending and nothing made sense....

“It’s alright.” Glen was holding his shoulder as Gilbert clutched at his temples. He was sorry, _sorry, I’m so sorry…_ “We can still stop the Black Rabbit.”

Gilbert shook his head.

“I shot him,” the words tumbled out of his mouth like sharp knives on his quivering lips. “I shot him, how could I, _Oz..._ ”

“What a crybaby,” Lily said under her breath and let out a yelp of pain when Vincent threw a chess piece at her nose, earning a curt scolding from Lottie. Their bickering was a blur. Gilbert couldn’t look his brother in the eye.

Oz had been calling for him, had clung to him for dear life and cried. Gilbert was needed. _He shot him._ The last image he had of him was made of soaked blond hair tainted green by the grass, an empty stare and a bloody stomach. Then Break had stepped forward with Alice in his arms and the three of them had vanished into Eques’ shadow. Her scream still rang in Gilbert’s ears.

His left hand ached. The drain the seal was putting on him was dulling the vice-like grip Vincent had on his arm. Gilbert could feel Raven’s power burning through his veins as B-Rabbit thrashed against the chains that bound its destructive abilities.

Oz was alive. He had to be.

“You did the right thing,” Glen told him patiently. He was too focused, it seemed, on the task of comforting Gilbert to pay any mind to his underlings’ antics. Understanding. Reassuring. “This child should never have been born.”

Something snapped. Thirteen-years worth of hatred boiled deep inside Gilbert’s gut. He despised those words and the man who spoke them. A cruel, evil man who could say such horrible things to his son’s face and walk away with a condescending smile, leaving the broken boy all alone in the rain....

Instead of the abhorred scarred face, Gilbert met the calm eyes of a slender boy as Glen Baskerville stared impassively at the barrel of a gun.

Vincent caught Lottie’s wrist before her knife could slice Gilbert’s throat. The Baskervilles had stood up as one except for Zwei, who stayed at her post and leaned towards the scene eagerly, her Chain looming behind her. One word from Glen froze them all to the spot. The gun slipped from Gilbert’s slack fingers and hit the carpet with a _thud._

“Let him go.”

Gilbert bolted out before Vincent even lessened his grip. Gilbert could hear his brother calling after him and feel the faint sting of the cut that Lottie’s knife had left when he got away. On his way out, the man bumped into several of Zwei’s puppets without eliciting so much as a blink from them. None of it mattered. His hands were crying for blood, just how many people would he have to kill in the name of his master, _out,_ _he wanted out!_

The dull green of Oz’s eyes and the resigned face that Glen wore in front of a gun haunted Gilbert as he staggered back to the room he hadn’t used in two years. It was unlit and sober in the cool evening, with a faint smell of dust in the air. Nothing about it felt familiar.

Gilbert dug his nails into the back of the nearest plush armchair and looked hard at his hands. His gloves gleamed an eerie white in the dark. Every time he blinked, the man expected crimson stains to bloom between his fingers. If he focused hard, he could remember the fleeting touch of soaked feathers. If he tried hard enough, he could almost feel the heartbeat under Oz’s seal.

It felt like hours until the sound of the door opening pulled him out of his trance. Leo was standing in the doorway. The sudden light from the corridor blinded Gilbert to everything but the boyish figure and its unkempt hair. For a second it felt like another time, where Gilbert might never have left the Nightray household: Leo would have come to fetch him for dinner, because Elliot knew his siblings would forget on purpose and – as Leo would point out – Elliot was too shy to do it himself.

“I will let some light in,” Oswald’s voice warned.

Gilbert closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, the curtains had been drawn back, and the sunset bathed the room in an orange glow. Leo’s hand was still clutched around the thick fabric with his back to Gilbert. Perfectly trusting in spite of his freshly bandaged chest wound and the gun Gilbert had pointed at him.

An apology was on Gilbert’s lips when the boy turned to him with his timeless gaze and sad smile:

“I figured you would be too agitated to get a proper rest. You haven’t changed.”

Hearing this made Gilbert feel very small. In spite of the petite stature of his vessel, Glen sounded just like the man whom Gilbert would seek at night as a child until his master chased the nightmares away with calm, sensible words.

But they _had_ changed. Gilbert was a man, and that soothing voice had ordered him to kill.

“I can imagine how hard it must be for you.” Even now, his master seemed able to see right through him. “But it was necessary. In order to protect the peace of the Abyss, sacrifices have to be made. This is our lot as Baskervilles.”

Oswald’s voice had a strained quality to it. Suddenly it occurred to Gilbert that this man had sent his own sister to the Abyss.

Earlier, back at the reunion Gilbert had fled, Glen had briefly alluded to his past in order to explain Jack’s motive and plans to his subordinates, so they could think of a way to stop him for good. Their master hadn’t elaborated. Like sending your younger sibling to a hellish dimension because they happened to be born with red irises was just that: a necessity. Something Oswald had never considered to object to, and that Glen had done without question.

This part of the meeting had shocked Gilbert enough to stare at his master in outrage – he could feel Vincent’s weight next to him, smell the gunpowder from the mechanic shot aimed at Oz – and their eyes had met. For all their resignation and practicality, Glen’s gaze seemed bottomless. It was like staring into the Abyss and its never ending darkness, which bore nothing but loneliness and pain. Gilbert had had to look away.

The boy who stood before him in his old bedroom bore the soul of a man who had seen everything. As Gilbert looked back at the dancing golden specks in his calm midnight eyes, he knew they spoke nothing but the truth. As leader of the Baskervilles, Glen knew the Abyss and its laws better than anyone, and had suffered more from them than all contractors put together. His words were absolute. _Sacrifices have to be made._

Gilbert remembered tousled fair hair in the sunlight, laughing green eyes, and a mischievous smile. A giant monster screaming through its tears as its scythe mowed red-caped figures, like a bloody harvest. The chiming sound of chains breaking in a golden rain. A small body lying abandoned on the wet grass like a broken toy.

Oz had to be killed.

“There has to be another way…” Gilbert had fallen to his knees. His earlier offence vanished from his mind as desperation took the better of him. The man took Glen’s sleeve in his hands and looked up at him with imploring eyes. “Oz didn’t do anything wrong. You _know_ he didn’t want to hurt anyone, it was Jack who… Master, _please...!_ ”

“Oz was born to destroy everything,” Glen held Gilbert’s left fist in his hands and unclenched it gently. “It is its nature. You, too, must have noticed, with the way the child treated you.”

Gilbert’s mouth went slack: “What...?”

“I have Leo’s memories,” Glen said. “I have seen the kind of relationship the two of you had. I am glad you could come back to my side.” Leo’s mouth smiled slightly. “I am proud to have you as my servant, Gilbert. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Gilbert felt reassured. _He felt sick._ That was the kind of comfort he had always sought, the feeling of belonging, being needed. _He was such a leech. He deserved none of it._ Of course his master spoke the truth. Gilbert had been blind all along.

“The kind of relationship we had… That’s right,” Gilbert whispered and stared off to the side. Towards the ruins of Sablier, a few weeks back. How come it felt like a lifetime ago?

_“Even if you trip and fall, I’ll be by your side to support you,”_ Oz had told him. “ _So, you can just fall without worrying about a thing!”_

That was what Gilbert had needed to hear. His memories and murderous thoughts kept haunting him. The man had entirely relied on Oz, let all the weight of his worries rest on the boy’s shoulders. No matter how many times he told himself it was wrong.

“That’s right,” Gilbert repeated, his smile bitter and broken as he held on to his master. “It brought nothing but destruction. I was the monster all along.”

Oswald’s confused voice came from very far away:

“What do you mean?”

Gilbert glanced up. The boy’s surreal eyes looked slightly wider and honestly disconcerted. Worried, even. They didn’t understand. Of course they didn’t....

“Oz couldn’t help it...” Gilbert explained. “But I was a lot more destructive than he ever was.”

Leo had only seen the surface. Oz kicking his servant at the slightest wrongdoing, Gilbert’s obsession with him – _“abnormal,”_ Break had called it. He had tried to warn him so many times and Gilbert never listened – the murderous thoughts that had almost made him kill Alice, Zai, and Break in turn....

“You don’t know,” Gilbert said breathlessly. His eyes were unfocused, and his right fist clenched a fancy sleeve. At the moment he couldn’t remember whom he was talking to. “You have no idea how it was these first months, after Lord Oscar found me. I couldn’t remember anything. I just knew I had done something terrible. Unforgivable. I had no idea what happened to the master. That’s what I told Lord Oscar. That’s why he took me to Oz. But Oz, he....”

His voice broke on the name the second time he said it. He could barely feel the boy’s fingers around his left hand, indicating that Glen was giving him his full attention. All Gilbert could see and hear was the distant voice of a ten year old boy swearing to protect him as long as he lived. Taking a blow to the head for Gilbert, punching him with all his might immediately after, when the amnesiac boy had thrown a panic fit.

“It’s true,” Gilbert said softly. “Oz was violent. He was tyrannical. But that’s the only way he knew how to keep me here. For the first few months at the Vessalius household, I kept having panic attacks and losing contact with reality. Oz... He was always there for me. When no one else could reach me, he would hit me as hard as he could and wake me up. Tell me I belonged with him.”

Gilbert had clung to this boy as if he were a lifeline. A commanding voice, laughter and pain had made the injunctions in his head grow fainter. Oz had accepted him as he was: a lost, amnesiac child with unstable emotions who cried all the time, born solely for servitude. Except for the last part....

_“Stop calling me ‘master’!”_ Oz had told him over and over, and begrudgingly accepted the compromise of “young master.” As a child, Gilbert had thought Oz was being too generous. Gilbert would have done anything for him, which was only natural for a servant. And he knew Oz felt the same, which was both improper and wonderful.

“Oz gave me more than a master,” Gilbert was unable to stop. “He called me his best friend. I was just a servant, yet he let me train and play with him. He faced an armed man to protect me....”

Gilbert drifted off. That was when everything had gone downhill for the both of them. Oz vanished and silence fell on Gilbert’s life, heavy and foreboding. There was nothing left to distract the boy from his hell and its bloodthirsty disembodied voice. He hated to recall the ceremony from ten years ago.

“And as soon as he disappeared....”

Gilbert had lost everything. Given up on everything for the sole purpose of bringing Oz back. Betrayed the household he had once called home, brought shame and grief to Lord Oscar and Lady Ada, took a disgraceful noble name, used his own brother to form a contract, stole Elliot’s legacy, learnt how to use a gun, and shed blood on Pandora’s orders.

“There was no one to stop me,” Gilbert’s voice was trembling with self-disgust. “So I became a criminal. I didn’t mind tainting my soul if I could save him. Even if I lost his trust for good. Because Oz was the only one who kept me together.”

All his sins hadn’t mattered next to the slimmest hope of bringing Oz back. Gilbert had cried and gone sick with self-loathing, but not once had he considered turning back. Neither had he ever expected Oz to want anything to do with the man he had become.

“But he came back on his own,” Gilbert laughed bitterly. His eyes felt strangely dry from staring into a past long gone. “I was useless. And a traitor to the Vessalius. And yet… Oz… He forgave it all.”

No matter what he did, Oz wanted him by his side. Unpredictable, noble-minded, brave, _wonderful_ Oz Vessalius....

“Yes, he’s tyrannical…” Gilbert’s voice got louder. The words fell like tearless sobs on the soft fabric clutched between his fingers. “So _what?_ He has every right to be! I was nothing but trouble for him and as soon as he disappeared, I lost my mind! I don’t even know why he put up with me! Why he kept me near.... I deserved none of it, and I wanted it all!”

A person to love, respect, obey, and protect at all costs. How could Oz _not_ be his master?

“Gilbert.... Please calm down…”

“I don’t know why, but it doesn’t matter as long as he wants me! I can take anything if I can be by his side! _Oz can have all of me!_ ”

The sentence choked him. No… Gilbert had no right to make such claims anymore. Not after what he had done.

“Please come back,” Oswald’s voice said, low and unsure. Afraid? “Stay with me.”

Gilbert’s breathing came out harsh and uneven. He could feel a hand patting his head. It was comforting and awkward. Warm and lonely. Alienating. The boy holding him had the wrong scent, the voice in his ear was too deep and its body too young, while Gilbert was too big. Nothing would fit.

Gilbert didn’t belong here. Not in the Nightray house, not with the Baskervilles. Oz was hurt and possibly _dying,_ what was he even _doing_ here?

_If I go back, I may shoot him again._

The man shuddered and hid his face in the young noble’s dress. Vincent had never protected Oz. If he had warned his brother, told him about his past earlier, things might have occurred differently. Gilbert would have been able to face his memories head-on, without a severed head to cradle and broken boys with ghosts’ voices that made him mad with longing.

Maybe then Gilbert’s choice wouldn’t have depended on who ordered him first.

_Shoot him._ An order Glen never apologized for.

_Why should the master apologize?_ came the gravely voice in his head.

_Because it was Oz,_ Gilbert thought right back.

Long fingers let go of his hand and came to rest on his head instead. All was quiet except for Gilbert’s laboured breathing.

“You went through a lot,” Oswald’s voice said at last, his breath brushing Gilbert’s hair. “I didn’t expect you to survive Sablier. You are strong, Gilbert.”

The words surprised him. Even the tone felt at odds with his master’s voice. It had grown hesitant, like Glen was having trouble forming sentences. In his clouded mind, Gilbert remembered his master as a person of few words. And the man hadn’t tried to comfort anyone in a century.

“But you know you can’t use this child as a reprieve. You couldn’t have kept that connection forever,” the voice grew softer. “Neither of you. The truth about Oz would have come out eventually.”

It felt so strange, hearing Oz’s name in that deep voice. Almost like Glen knew Oz personally. The notion made Gilbert’s throat tighten.

“He’s so lonely…” Gilbert mumbled into Glen’s chest. “He was always so lonely....”

“I know,” his master’s tone was so tired. It really sounded like he knew. “Oz truly is a pitiful being. Erasing his existence is the least we can do.”

“ _No._ ”

Gilbert could go no further than that. No more than a simple monosyllable to oppose his master. But he had to say it. Oz deserved better than pity. He was too bright and dashing for that. If anything between them got broken, Gilbert was the only one to blame.

“It is the truth,” Glen said calmly. “This child can’t call anything his own. All this time, Jack made him live a lie. He is better off dead.”

Because Gilbert hadn’t known anything. Hadn’t been able to see through the lies Jack had drawn their lives with. Gilbert had promised on a whim, without thinking, but no matter how much he wanted to believe, the servant could never have made “forever” come true. Or maybe he could have. If only he had been more insightful.... Now it was too late.

“What about her?” he whispered without thinking, hoping for a way out, _any_ way out. “What about Alice? Isn’t she B-Rabbit, too?”

Glen’s grip tightened around his locks.

“Alice is already dead.”

Dread filled Gilbert’s chest before he had time to fully process those words. Then he remembered what Oz and he had seen in the Cheshire cat’s dimension. He wasn’t sure what it meant for the Alice he knew. What Glen was implying, exactly.

The only thing that mattered was that there was no way to save her. No way to save Oz.

“…Leo?” Were they all fated to disappear?

“He is still here.” It was a minute difference, but Oswald’s voice sounded lighter. Gilbert could hear the beginning of a smile. “The attack only weakened him. He will come back eventually.”

Gilbert sighed. That was a relief. At least Oz had managed to save his friend. He was always desperate to help, no matter how hopeless the situation looked. A feeling Gilbert knew all too well. The both of them had always been so reckless.... And their most venturesome act had probably been to let themselves depend on each other so much.

Yet his master had always looked like he could do anything. Gilbert still believed that. What he had never fully grasped was just how deep the boy’s trust ran. As a child, Gilbert had been too dazzled by Oz to wonder at his magnanimity.

Here, in the arms of this master he couldn’t remember twenty-four hours ago, as Gilbert begged for answers he couldn’t find, he was starting to understand Oz’s way of thinking. Why the boy was so bothered when Gilbert called him “master,” why he resorted to violence so often to bring his servant back to his senses. Just like Break when Gilbert had almost killed Zai in spite of his vow.

Oz had always known. What Break could guess from his past as Kevin Regnard and the Red-Eyed Ghost, Oz had felt since the day he first met Gilbert, fifteen years ago. His servant was mad, and starved for acknowledgment of any kind. Ready to cling to the first person to tell him he could be useful, and do their every bidding. It was the twisted mind of a murderer.

Regardless, Oz had chosen to trust him. Enough to believe in his promise of undying loyalty, to keep Gilbert by his side with his tainted soul and secrets, to let his servant keep those secrets until he was ready to speak, to always respect his choice. Like Gilbert was actually capable of free will.

Gilbert wished he could give all of this back and so much more. Yet all Oz had gotten was a bullet wound and a death sentence from Gilbert’s real master. The servant couldn’t find his way around Glen’s wisdom and sorrow. No matter where he looked, there was no way back to Oz. Not if Gilbert couldn’t trust himself.

Exhaustion was pulling him in. Gilbert could feel his master leading him by the hand to the bed. It still hurt. After lying down, Gilbert gripped his left arm, lest the appendage should fire more straight bullets. He could feel a pulse, which might have been his own, or Raven’s, or, hopefully, Oz’s.

“Rest,” Oswald’s voice ordered him. “We can talk tomorrow.”

So Gilbert let the heartbeat lull him to sleep. Whoever it belonged to, he never wanted it to stop. _Remember your priorities._ Jack was a common enemy. If only Gilbert could sever the link that ghost had with Oz. If he could end this with anything but a bullet....

He thought he heard a caw. And his master’s voice.

“You will recover in due time.”


	2. Nightray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original purpose of this fic was to cope with the suspense of the manga by attempting to write a plausible ending, with Gilbert's conflict as my main focus. Sadly, I am a slow writer, and every time I updated, I had to adapt to a lot of new revelations. I am currently writing the fourth and last chapter of "Ambidextrous" while "Pandora Hearts" is still ongoing, and the exercise is proving very hard. Sorry for making you wait, dear readers, I promise I will see this story to the end if it kills me.
> 
> This chapter was originally published after 'Retrace 76' was translated. Since "Ambidextrous" is an alternate continuity, I try to fit as many canon facts as possible while sticking to the plot I had in mind. Therefore, expect huge spoilers up to 'Retrace 76' in this chapter, but also some inconsistencies with more recent "Pandora Hearts" chapters.

The creaking sound of a door opening woke him up. Gilbert turned his head towards it, and saw his brother standing in the doorway. Night had fallen on his old bedroom. The only light came from the candle Vincent was holding, and the airy dust that clung to his dirty blond hair. Gilbert’s mind was still too drowsy to understand the situation.

His brother smiled apologetically. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“I let you sleep as long as I could, but we have to go. I just got a message from Pandora Headquarters.”

“Pandora…?” Gilbert sat up. “But I thought…”

“The Baskervilles have put Pandora under siege. They are gathering the contractors of the five Black Winged Chains. Your master expects you, brother.”

The words were hammering reality into his head, leaving him alert and terrified. They woke the pain in his left hand. Gilbert jumped to his feet and threw on his discarded coat. Someone had hung the cloth to dry on the mantelpiece, but it still clung to his undershirt. He couldn’t have slept that long.

Vincent was watching him closely. When Gilbert went for the door, his brother followed in long, even strides. Every move he made sounded composed and deliberate. But whenever Gilbert looked over his shoulder or into the dark glass of a passing window, he would meet Vincent’s eyes.

He could feel them boring into his back as Vincent told him everything that had happened while he slept. In order to prevent the chains holding the world from breaking, the Baskervilles needed the power of the five Black Winged Chains. Glen couldn’t use the full power of the Jabberwocky with the fifth Sealing Stone still intact, but thanks to Duke Barma’s collaboration, they had learnt its location: Count Eyrie’s manor, a little further East after the Nightray household.

Duke Barma had warned them against the count’s high security, so the Baskervilles had split into two groups: Doug and Lily had gone to destroy the stone, while Zwei, Lottie and Glen – who couldn’t go near the stone – had gone back to Pandora Headquarters, as reinforcements for the illegal contractors. They were to take control of Pandora in order to find the five keys to the Abyss, but their main targets were Sheryl Rainsworth’s Owl and, of course, Oz.

Gilbert pushed the front door open, and raised his arms to shield himself from the sudden airstream. The rain wouldn’t stop. The sultry air was charged with electricity, and the trees bended under the howling wind. But it wasn’t water falling from the heavens. No matter where Gilbert looked, golden drops filled his vision. The world was collapsing all around him.

As he ran, Gilbert felt for the pendant under his shirt. The chain was ice cold under the drenched fabric, but the mirror was emitting some warmth. It felt like its contractor’s body heat clung to it stubbornly. Like the Raven kept some of Gilbert’s strength trapped there. The pain in his left hand got sharper at that thought. He had no idea how to stop it. There was no choice but to ignore it and keep going.

A carriage was waiting. Their driver was struggling to calm the horses, and swearing like a trooper at the weather. Gilbert got in without a word, his mind filled with thoughts of bloody corpses, burning buildings and a bottomless pit. Even if the Baskervilles managed to stop the destruction of the world, the damage already done was probably too great. It would be Sablier all over again.

When he sat down, Gilbert noticed a long, tightly packed-up bundle, which was propped up by cushions on the opposite seat.

“What is this?” Gilbert pointed at the baggage when Vincent boarded.

Vincent sat close to the object, and closed a hand around its wrapping. He kept it safely tucked next to him.

“Only something you are going to need later.”

Gilbert wanted to prompt, but just then the carriage started, and almost knocked him off balance. He straightened up, and glanced out the window at the night landscape rushing by. Their speed was probably unwise on these roads and with an upcoming storm, but he wasn’t going to complain. They had no time to spare.

“It’s only a matter of time until Pandora gives in,” his little brother resumed his account. “The Hatter has been caught.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I heard it just now, from the messenger. They took his blood mirror and imprisoned him.”

Gilbert was hanging on the edge of his seat, waiting with bated breath for more, but Vincent had stopped talking. He was watching his older brother in silent apprehension. Gilbert hated how forlorn he looked. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them:

“Oz. What about him? What have they done to Oz?”

Vincent frowned slightly. Gilbert wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking so intently.

“The Hatter was carrying him when they got to him. Oz was taken as well. Last I heard, they took him to a cell to seal his powers.”

“He is alive....”

Vincent’s lips were drawn into a thin line. Even in the darkness of the carriage, his eyes were bright and calculating.

“…Does it matter to you?”

“Of course it does!” Gilbert’s voice was trembling, with anger or fear, probably both. “What do you _think_ …”

“Brother,” Vincent interrupted softly, “I know that you blame yourself for what happened.”

He was shaking his head with a fond, disapproving smile playing on his lips. Pieces of golden chains went flying around his unruly hair. There was a childish air about him, which unsettled Gilbert and reduced him to silence. As patronizing as Vincent’s gestures were, Gilbert couldn’t help but notice how tense his little brother’s shoulders looked.

“And if I told you it wasn’t your fault, you wouldn’t listen,” Vincent chuckled. “Still. Your master knew what he was doing.”

Gilbert’s left hand twitched. It might have been him, or Vincent had put a slight emphasis on the word ‘master.’

“Besides,” his brother went on after a short silence, “you knew that B-Rabbit was the one who broke the chains. But to you, this Chain was always too human. Not to mention that,” his lips twisted into something that might have been a sympathetic smile, or a teasing one. “For a while, Oz filled a gap in your life, didn’t he?”

Gilbert couldn’t answer. It was, after all, nothing but the truth, things that Glen had already talked him through. Gilbert was perfectly aware of the way he had used Oz. That made his betrayal all the worse. Even if his master ordered it, he had no right to hurt Oz in any way. And now, even Break had suffered the consequences of Gilbert’s weakness. He couldn’t leave things like this.

“I can’t abandon him....”

“You mean your master?”

Gilbert flinched. He had definitely heard it. There was a slight tremor in Vincent’s voice; the one he had acquired after Gilbert had scolded him during their face-off in Réveil. It sounded uncertain, and grew more urgent every time he mentioned Gilbert’s master. It almost felt like a physical pull....

“Of course. You only live for him,” Vincent rested his forearms on his knees, and leaned in. “You told me this yourself: if his life is in danger, you’d kill anyone who threatened your master, wouldn’t you? If you think about it, nothing has changed.”

Lightning struck and illuminated the compartment. Vincent’s eye shone a bright, pained red:

“The one trying to take your master away is B-Rabbit.”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Gilbert clutched at his temples. He didn’t want to hear those words. They wormed their way into his skull, niggling at the back of his mind like claws on glass, everything would shatter unless that gravely voice shut up, _shut up!_ “I didn’t know it was Oz!”

“You couldn’t have known.” It took Gilbert a while to realize that it was his brother speaking, and not the bloodthirsty voice in his head. “But you can only serve one master.”

_Master._ Everything was so much simpler when he had a master to serve. _Love him. Follow his orders._ Simple. Easy. _Kill his enemies._ Simple, and the servant had still failed.

In order to protect his master, Gilbert should have stopped Jack a hundred years ago. He had been too late, and too naïve. Jack had gotten away and killed Glen. Gilbert had followed the order belatedly, and shot Oz instead. Knowing all the while that it wasn’t really Jack he was killing, and that his master was long lost, anyway.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. It was still far. Gilbert barely heard it over the clatter of the carriage wheels against the uneven road, but it was enough to bring him back to reality.

“I know that,” he told his brother through gritted teeth. “I know....”

He couldn’t use his master as an excuse for what he had put Oz through. The truth was that Gilbert’s act had been cruel and pointless. Even if Jack was the enemy, he was well out of his reach. Shooting the vessel wouldn’t rid either Glen or Oz of the ghost.

Gilbert had followed the order blindly, but it hadn’t brought his master back from the dead. Nothing would.

“I can’t ever make up for what I did then. I lost my master back in Sablier.”

His voice sounded hollow to his own ears. Yet somehow, his headache was easier to bear after he said it. Gilbert knew exactly where he stood, and how hopeless his situation was. Glen may have forgiven him, but Gilbert had never earned his trust, and he never would. Now, a way out was all he could wish for.

More importantly, Vincent’s expression was seriously worrying him. Gilbert had always resented the fact that his little brother hid things from him, and never confided in anyone, when it was obvious that Vincent had troubles he couldn’t handle alone. Now more than ever, under all the smooth words and calculating gaze, Vincent looked like he could crumble at the slightest push.

“…There might be a way to undo that,” Vincent said. He was talking so softly that Gilbert barely heard him over the storm and jolting carriage.

“What are you saying?”

Vincent seemed to hesitate. He took a slow, deep breath:

“What if you could prevent your master’s death? What if you could go back to that time?”

Gilbert’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean…”

“I made a deal with Leo Baskerville,” Vincent was talking faster, his back very straight against his seat. “He is the Glen of this time. If he obtains the Will of the Abyss, he agreed to grant me a wish. Gil, we can change the past.”

What remained of Gilbert’s headache vanished at that. He looked at his brother in a daze, his heart hammering in his chest. Change the past. They could do anything. Bring Elliot back. Prevent the Tragedy from ever happening. Save his master. Save Oz…

His train of thoughts stopped short. Gilbert’s hope deflated like a bubble, before it was even fully formed. Of course he couldn’t save Oz. Not the boy he had served for five years, and followed into the darkness of the Abyss. If anyone turned back time, and prevented the Tragedy of Sablier, there would be nothing left of the Oz he knew.

“It _is_ possible,” Vincent insisted. “I spent years gathering information from Pandora and the Baskervilles. I know for a fact that it has been done before.”

In a flash, Gilbert saw Break’s completed seal, the way the man’s pale fingers fisted his hair and hid his eye from view when he moaned: _“I killed her.”_

“Vince…”

“Jack wouldn’t be able to open the Gate!” Vincent got up and grabbed his shoulders. “Not without my help! Maybe… No, he _would_ have given up on his plan. That foolish Duke doesn’t know anything. Both of us, we knew Jack better than any of the Barmas. You remember too, you know Jack would never…”

“Vince, calm down!” Gilbert pulled at his brother’s wrists, but Vincent only tightened his grip. “You don’t…”

“Brother, hear me out!” He was too close. Gilbert could even see his lips quivering. This wasn’t like him, Vincent shouldn’t look so vulnerable, it reminded Gilbert too much of the past. “It can’t get any worse than this! Just give it a chance, I know we can trust Jack! I…”

The carriage jumped when a front wheel hit a pebble. Vincent was sent off balance, and Gilbert caught hold of his shoulder when his brother fell on his lap. The man made haste to push Vincent off, make him sit next to him and ask if he was alright, but his little brother hung on to him. He looked flustered.

“Gil. You deserve a past without me,” Vincent told him earnestly. “Please… Let me give you that much.”

Gilbert was dumbstruck. Vincent’s words were soft-spoken, yet Gilbert became deaf from them. It was as though they had swallowed the raging wind and clattering wheels outside. He hoped he had heard wrong. That Vincent would take them back.

“Everything you went through was my fault,” Vincent went on, like he was stating a fact. “Our parents abandoned us because of my red eye. Everyone shunned us because of it. It was I who opened the Gate to the Abyss. If I was never born…”

Gilbert slammed his brother against the back of his seat.

“Is _that_ how you planned to ‘make me happy?’” he asked, livid. “You want to erase your own existence? Are you _crazy?_ ”

“I know,” Vincent smiled, unconcerned about the fist clenching his collar. “I knew you would disagree. You were always so kind-hearted. Of course you would never approve of a plan that involved my death. I know you very well, brother…”

“ _Then why are we having this conversation?_ ”

“Now, be honest,” Vincent covered Gilbert’s fist with his hand, and looked at him from under his eyelashes. “And answer this: have you never told yourself, not even once, that you would be happier without me? Have you never wished that I would just disappear?”

Gilbert went stiff. Vincent stroked the fist at his throat with a thumb, and waited for an answer that wouldn’t come. His smile widened into a grin that reduced his mismatched eyes to slits. Gilbert’s fist shook. He couldn’t believe this.

“…I have,” Gilbert admitted, his grip tightening around his brother’s collar. “Many times. Even when we were children, and I had nobody else in the world. Are you trying to tell me that I was _right?_ ”

Vincent tilted his head, all the better to see him in the dark.

“That’s just the way you are,” he said lovingly. “Too sweet and weak to admit your own cruelty. This is why I took things into my own hands.”

“ _Stop that!_ ” Gilbert slammed his brother harder against the seat, in a desperate attempt to knock some sense into him. “You don’t know anything! You keep talking about Sablier. Did it ever occur to you that, for most of my life, I remembered nothing of that time? What about the years we spent together at the Nightrays’? Don’t they mean anything to you?”

“They hated us,” Vincent kept smiling. “And you hated this house. I kept you there because I couldn’t live without you.”

“It was _my_ decision to become a Nightray, and you know it!” Gilbert yelled. “You always knew that I was using you to get my hands on Raven! And yet you always supported and helped me. If it hadn’t been for you and Elliot....”

There it was. The slight widening of Vincent’s eyes, that lost look he had never outgrown. Gilbert had both fists at his collar now:

“I would never have made it without you! You always knew what I was planning. And whenever I asked for help, you gave it. So why can’t you trust me? You should have told me what you were up to! All these years, you had me worried sick. I drove myself crazy trying to figure out what was going on inside your head! And all this time, you wanted to _die?_ ”

The carriage did another jump, and the shock almost made him strangle Vincent. Gilbert released him immediately to check for bruises, but his little brother just stared at him in a confused daze.

“Damn you.” Gilbert ran his hand through his hair restlessly. “Things are bad enough as it is. Do you think I want to lose you as well?”

They were both quiet after that. The racket from outside was back, sounding much closer and realer now that Gilbert was done venting. He couldn’t hear himself panting above the storm.

“Brother.”

Vincent was slumped on his seat. All energy seemed to have left him as soon as Gilbert had let him go. When Gilbert raised his head to meet his gaze, Vincent covered his red eye. A reflex engrained long ago, that made his brother sick to his stomach every time he caught Vincent in the act.

“I am going to disappear anyway.”

Vincent’s expression was a mere shadow of his usual smiles, twisted in pain and regret. It sent chills down Gilbert’s spine.

“Your seal,” the man whispered. “How far did the needle advance?”

“My…? Oh. Right. Demios. No, I wasn’t referring to that.”

Gilbert could have slapped his brother across the face for taking his illegal contract so lightly. Vincent froze him with a look:

“I am a Child of Misfortune.”

Vincent’s smirk became crooked with self-disgust when he said it. As he stared at his older brother, it seemed to soften slightly.

“It’s better that way,” Vincent told him. “After the chains are restored, as soon as Glen Baskerville gets all his power back, I will be sent to the lowest level of the Abyss.”

Gilbert shivered.

“Did… Did he tell you that?”

“You heard him. Children of Misfortune threaten the peace of the Abyss. This is why your master sent his sister down there. If you had become the next Glen, you would have done the same for me.”

There was a fierce glint in Vincent’s eyes, the certitude that he deserved no better fate. The way he phrased it, it almost sounded like a favour.

“There was never any proof of that!” Gilbert protested.

He had spent the earliest years of his life telling his little brother that all that talk about misfortune was nothing but superstition. He refused to believe otherwise.

“Who knows?” Vincent said. “It doesn’t really change anything. All I want is to let you start over, without me to burden you. Just let Lord Leo erase my existence. Then you wouldn’t have to kill me, and there would be no Tragedy of Sablier.”

“ _You would still die!_ And Jack would find another way! He became an illegal contractor, stabbed me in the back, and killed his best friend! Do you seriously think he would give up just like…”

“What did you say?”

Suddenly there was a fixed stare on Vincent’s face. His pupils had contracted so much that his eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

“Jack stabbed _you?_ ”

“He used me to get to my master,” Gilbert growled. “Then he forced Oz to kill him. Jack betrayed the four of us. We can’t trust him, Vince.”

Vincent’s hands were balled into tight fists. Gilbert bit his lip, and put a hand on his little brother’s forearm. He was shaking so hard that it became noticeable in spite of the carriage’s jolts.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert told him. “I should have protected you back then.”

Vincent didn’t seem to hear him. If it weren’t for his erratic breathing, Gilbert would have thought he had turned to stone. He held his tongue, deeming it safer to give his little brother some time to recover. They stayed like this for several minutes. When suddenly, a bitter laugh left Vincent’s lips.

“I see,” he said between snickers. “I see… But it doesn’t matter. Your master will erase Jack, too. Yes. I will just take him with me. With the two of us gone, you won’t have to suffer anymore.”

Gilbert’s fingers dug into Vincent’s arm: “Are you _still…!_ ”

“Rather than killing us now, it would be best to prevent Jack’s birth, and mine,” Vincent’s laughter was dying down gradually, leaving a manic expression on his face. “Since our fate is sealed, anyway…”

“It is not! Master never said he was going to kill you!”

“He will do it, brother. The only reason he didn’t imprison me is because I pledged my allegiance. But as soon as this crisis is over, he will be sure to get rid of Jack and I.”

Realisation hit Gilbert with the force of a slap. Suddenly he felt cold, unbearably so. His soaked undershirt weighed him down like ghostly hands. The howling outside froze him to the core.

“It can’t be...” his voice was hoarse and foreign. “The reason why the Baskervilles kept Oz alive…?”

Vincent rubbed at his face. To Gilbert, it looked like an attempt to erase the grimace he wore. The younger man heaved a long sigh:

“Yes. They are going to throw him into the darkness of the Abyss, along with Jack.”

“They can’t… _They can’t!_ ”

“They already tried. Twice,” Vincent gave him an unblinking stare. “They couldn’t send Oz deep enough with only one Black Winged Chain, however. This is why he could make it back. Even Lord Leo was bound to fail. But this time, the Baskervilles will have the five birds at their disposal.”

Gilbert put a hand over his mouth, horror-struck. The Baskervilles needed the five Black Winged Chains to send Oz and Vincent to the lowest level of the Abyss, where no one could save them. They needed Raven.

_No._ He couldn’t do it. His master couldn’t ask that of him, _anything but that...._

“Do you see now?”

He was going to be sick. He wouldn’t look at Vincent. He didn’t want to hear another word from him.

“It would be better if the two of you never met,” his little brother’s tone was almost gentle. “If we change the past, at least my death would have a purpose.”

“ _Be quiet,_ ” Gilbert pleaded. “Don’t say that. _Never_ say that again.”

He didn’t want to go through this ever again. He didn’t want either of Oz or his brother to go through this ever again.

But what could Gilbert do if he couldn’t trust himself? His own hands had betrayed him. Gilbert was among the Baskervilles’ ranks from the start. Ten years ago, he had stabbed Oz. Just yesterday he had shot him. And this time, it would be his own hand dragging his young master into the Abyss.

“There is still time,” Gilbert murmured frantically. “Before the four dukes are gathered....”

The carriage jolted to a stop. The rain was pattering heavily against the roof. Gilbert stood up straight.

“Break.”

His brother raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Vince,” Gilbert asked in a rush, afraid their driver would overhear. “You know where Break is, don’t you? Take me to him.”

A worried crease appeared on Vincent’s forehead: “What do you intend to do?” “I have to talk to him.” It was the only out Gilbert could see. Ten years ago, Break had burst into his life like a mad genie out of a timeless lamp, and only by following his lead had the young boy found his way back to Oz. If Break couldn’t find a solution to this mess, no one could.

Vincent’s frown only deepened. Their driver opened the door for them. His top hat was low on his eyes to protect them from the pouring rain, but Gilbert recognized his square jaw and aquiline nose. It was Joseph, a servant of the Nightray household, whom Gilbert remembered as dependable, if rather forgetful. The driver was only carrying two umbrellas, which he held out to the siblings.

Gilbert thanked him profusely, told him to keep his, and ran into the night. He ignored the paved roads, and made a beeline for the side doors.

Water and mud drenched his trousers as he splashed through puddles. His long hair clung to his cheeks and temples. Gilbert shook his head to get rid of the wet strands that obstructed his vision, and realized that he had left his hat at the Nightray mansion.

It was a relief to reach the lit corridors of Pandora Headquarters, although the difference in temperature was trifling. Vincent caught up with him a few minutes later, his moves as languid as ever. He was carrying the long bundle from before. Once he had passed the door, he felt it to make sure it was packed up securely.

“As you wish,” Vincent told his brother over the storm. The wind slammed the door shut behind him. “We had better hurry, then. You shouldn’t keep your master waiting.”

Gilbert made a point to ignore that remark, although his head and left hand still hurt. It wasn’t like he intended to double-cross the Baskervilles. As soon as he had pulled the trigger, Raven’s contractor had proven that he was on their side. This taken of loyalty had been enough for Glen, and therefore, enough for his subordinates. If Gilbert was a Baskerville, disobedience to the master was inconceivable.

Gilbert refused to fail Glen a second time. He wouldn’t betray him. But he couldn’t let Oz and Vincent die.

“Will you be fine carrying that?” he pointed at Vincent’s baggage. “It looks heavy.”

Vincent rubbed at his eyes to rid them of the water and hypersomnia, and took a candlestick off the wall:

“I don’t mind. For now, let’s pay a visit to Mr Hatter.”

He was avoiding Gilbert’s eyes, and the man didn’t know what to make of it. The way Vincent handled the object seemed exceedingly careful, like he was holding something fragile or precious. But the young man made his way to the end of the corridor without a backwards glance, and urgency was quick to overcome Gilbert’s curiosity. He darted ahead of his brother, keeping an ear out for Vincent’s concise directions.

Gilbert’s steps were quick and unsteady as he descended the stone stairs to Pandora’s dungeons; they sounded booming next to the pitiful clinking of the breaking chains. Their echo was a welcome distraction. He could only see four stairs ahead in the faint glow of Vincent’s candlestick, but after ten years at Pandora’s orders, the man had long since gotten used to the darkness. Besides, from the information his brother was giving him, Gilbert could guess where they were headed.

Even as a Pandora agent, he had hardly ever had to go so deep underground; interrogation had never been his line of expertise. Gilbert had only heard of the place where the most dangerous illegal contractors were held. Their Chains, of course, had to be restrained with sealing stones and pentacles. In this part of the dungeon, however, the contractors were deemed as dangerous as the monsters they summoned. Rather than ropes, Pandora used iron cuffs to keep them in line.

The only ones allowed to visit these high security prisoners were the four great dukes and their closest representatives. In other words, the doors to these cells could only be unlocked by one of their four Black Winged Chains.

Gilbert stopped short. Vincent’s heels clicked behind him as he, too, came to a halt. Familiar snickering drifted to their ears.

“You came!” a high-pitched voice cackled in the dark. “Master Glen knew you would come! You are such a naughty boy, Gilbert.”

Before he could say anything, the Baskerville came out of the shadows, her usual grin cutting her young face in two. She had taken off her hood.

“What is it?” Echo’s face sneered at Gilbert. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Good evening, Zwei,” Vincent said. Out of the corner of his eye, Gilbert saw him put his baggage against the wall cautiously, and step in front of it. “How nice of you to wait for us.”

The girl bounced past Gilbert to throw her arms around Vincent. Her smile made her flushed cheeks and pimples very apparent by candlelight, in stark contrast to her former expression.

“I take it the invasion was a success, then?” Vincent put his free arm around Zwei’s shoulders, keeping one eye on his brother. Zwei nodded:

“You should have come, Vincent! I had fun with this guy,” she tilted her head towards the door she had been guarding. “Did you come to torture him? Can I join in?”

“Maybe another time,” Vincent smiled at Gilbert’s sharp intake of breath, and lifted his forefinger from the candlestick in a silent sign to be quiet. “I will let Gil do the honours.”

Zwei turned into Vincent’s one-armed embrace to smirk at Gilbert:

“Ooh, Master Glen won’t like that,” she giggled. “You will be late for the gathering! And then we will all sink into the Abyss!”

“We are still one duke short, however,” Vincent pointed out. “Or am I wrong?”

“That’s true,” Zwei was grinning from ear to ear, and eying Gilbert greedily. “Zai Vessalius hasn’t come back yet.”

Gilbert’s hair stood up at the nape of his neck. Zai. Of course. As fellow contractors of Black Winged Chains, they would have to fix the chains together. And after all this was over, that man would come back for Oz.

“By the way, Gilbert,” Zwei tittered. “He sends his thanks. For shooting his son.”

“ _Out!_ ” Gilbert’s yell resonated in the dark corridor until the stones themselves cried out in protest. “Both of you. Leave us alone!”

“Very well,” Vincent stopped pinching a laughing Zwei to pluck a candle. He held it out to his brother. “Why don’t you go see whether Duke Vessalius has come back, Zwei? I will relieve you.”

“I want to stay with you,” the young girl pouted. “You’re going to fall asleep if I leave.”

“You have a point,” Vincent chuckled. “It can’t be helped, then. Well, brother, try to be quick about it. Zwei, hold this for me.”

Vincent handed his candlestick to Zwei, and retrieved the bundle.

“What’s that?” Zwei peered at the object curiously.

“Just a little gift for my dear brother,” Vincent pulled the chipper girl away by the shoulder.

When Gilbert turned back to the door, he realized that his fingers were clenching the candle so tightly the wax was starting to sink in. The man breathed deeply, and tried to focus on the task at hand.

The heavy iron door and its lone square, tiny window glared down at him. At first glance, it looked like a door like any other in this dark and dusty prison. But upon closer inspection, Gilbert could make out the marks of a seal. The door itself was an illusion. Gilbert followed the pattern with his fingers, the magic ticklish against his gloves. The Raven was responding, and its contractor was quick to find the centre of the pentacle. He took his left glove off with his teeth, and laid his bare hand flat against the centre. When he removed it, he was holding a black feather.

Gilbert held it before him like a second light, and let it guide him through the labyrinth beyond the barrier. The Raven was flying to the contractor of Mad Hatter.

When Gilbert found him, the feather slipped from his fingers and drifted to the floor soundlessly. With every blink, Gilbert saw more golden rain. The drops and candle flame illuminated the prisoner faintly; he looked almost transparent in their light.

Break had been stripped of his coat, and hung to the wall by the wrists like a puppet by its strings. He was just as motionless. He hadn’t even stirred when Gilbert had opened the barred door to his cramped cell, or when the servant’s step had resounded between the four walls. Frail looking limbs and a bloody hand flickered in the dim light. If it weren’t for the white hair, Gilbert might not have recognized him.

“Break…?”

Gilbert’s voice sounded pathetically weak in the empty room. There was little air. He didn’t even hear an echo. Break was as lifeless as ever.

“Break!”

Gilbert took a staggering step forward, his cries frantic this time. The candlelight shimmered. Its flame threatened to disappear with every wild movement Gilbert made. He didn’t notice. Break had to wake up. If he died, his last hope would be lost.

“Stop shouting like that.”

The icy voice came out of nowhere. Gilbert froze immediately, and stared hard at Break’s lips. The prisoner hadn’t moved. Gilbert was afraid it had been another hallucination.

“Thank you. This should make it easier for the both of us.”

Gilbert breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Or maybe it was exasperation; maybe worry. These were all he could feel around Break lately. Their current situation made it a thousand times worse.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert blurted out, the candle shaking in his hand. There were so many things to apologize for. He had no idea where to start. “I can’t break you out....”

There was a short silence. Break hadn’t moved from his position. When he parted his lips to speak again, Gilbert could only make out their shifting shadow in the dark.

“Don’t bother,” Break sneered. “They won’t make it in time anyway. This little game was over before it started.”

The biting statement confused him at first. Broken chains were falling weightlessly on their shoulders, entrancing and dismal. Gilbert wondered if Break’s blind eye could see them. Or maybe the prisoner had heard of those breaking chains, and what they meant. Maybe from Zwei?

If that was the case, she had been taunting Break. Gilbert clenched a fist around his removed glove. He was certain that she hadn’t told him everything.

“It might not be too late,” Gilbert said. “The Baskervilles have the power to stop the destruction of the world. We might not be able to save everyone, but…”

“How sweet,” Break scathed him. “You know you don’t stand a chance. Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the show?”

“I can’t! I have to do something or....”

Gilbert gritted his teeth, more out of self-loathing than any real ill feelings towards Break. He knew he deserved these stabbing words, and worse. But there was no time for doubt or regrets. There were lives at stake.

“You probably don’t trust me anymore, but I had to come,” Gilbert tried to explain, even though words were starting to fail him already. “If this goes on… Even if we succeed, Oz is going to die! Vincent too! The Baskervilles want to send them both into the Abyss! Please, Break, I need your help....”

Another silence, then Break’s smirk reappeared. It looked strained and painful.

“I would appreciate it if you would stop crawling like that. Frankly, it’s disgusting to watch.” The man’s voice dropped an octave. “It just makes me want to kill you even more.”

“Break, _listen_ to me!” Gilbert pleaded, ignoring the insult. “I know I betrayed you and Oz, but I… I might still be able to help you. I promise I’ll get you out of here, but first I need you to tell me what happened to the others! I know you must have a plan, you wouldn’t give up so easily!”

Break raised his head at that. Gilbert wouldn’t have been able to tell, if it weren’t for the red eye peeking behind his light fringe. Blind as it may be, it seemed to pierce right through him.

“How many…” Break asked in a hoarse voice. “How many people do you think I’ve killed?”

Gilbert was taken aback. But Break didn’t wait for an answer.

“And how many died because of me?”

Gilbert’s frame shook with unease. His drenched coat felt even colder down here. Black dry-stone walls were closing in on him. They absorbed all the heat and air like silent leeches. Even the echo of their words seemed trapped in the cramped space.

Gilbert suddenly wondered if the prisoner had heard anything he had said.

“Break…?”

“ _Why is it never enough?_ ”

Gilbert jumped.

The candle slipped out of his grasp, and was sent rolling on the floor. Its dying flame cast distorted shadows on the walls. Break started struggling against his restrains wildly. The candle hit the bottom of the wall the prisoner was pinned to. The long shadows made his limbs look like dislocated puppet sticks. With every clanging of the chains against the prison wall, Break’s shouts got louder:

“That Will of the Abyss... How many more sacrifices does she _want?_ I don’t have the _time…!_ ”

“Break, stop it!” Gilbert rushed to hold his wrists in place, lest the man hurt himself. “Calm down!”

The candle flame died. Pieces of chains gleamed in the darkness. They fell like a surreal curtain as Break strove to free himself.

“ _Don’t touch me!_ Hurry up and kill him, Albus! There is no time left!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Gilbert was yelling louder than him, holding strong against the man’s relentless shoves. “Who are you talking…”

Break’s wide red eye glared at him, but the man didn’t seem to hear a word:

“I have come this far… I can’t stop now! I need to change the past! _Master…!_ ”

Gilbert’s breath caught in his throat. The prisoner’s screams had gone incoherent. Gilbert tried to call his name, and struggled to hold him in place. From up close, he could see the thick sweat on Break’s forehead, the mad look in his eye. How impossibly hot his skin felt in this icy cell.

“You are burning up,” Gilbert whispered dreadfully. “You have a fever.”

Break broke into a coughing fit. Gilbert smelt blood.

“Bring them back…” the man hacked. “Master… Wait… Emi…ly....”

He had stopped fighting. Gilbert held him up against the wall as best as he could, afraid the handcuffs were putting too great a strain on the visibly sick man. Break’s eye rolled back in its socket. The white was bloodshot.

“Hold on, Break…” Gilbert urged him, hoping his voice didn’t sound as terrified as he felt. “You have to remember. You’re not Kevin Regnard anymore. The Sinclairs are already…”

“Sharon.”

Gilbert went quiet. He wiped the sweat off Break’s forehead in an attempt to help and soothe him.

“Where is Miss Sharon?” Break wheezed, his blind eye looking all over the dark room like a lost marble.

“I don’t know,” he stared at Break anxiously. “Vincent didn’t mention her, she must have gotten away. Break, do you know where you are?”

The red eye rolled some more, and fell shut.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Out of the blue, Break’s pale lips twisted into a wicked smile. “Hello, little Gilbert.”

Gilbert gulped. Even if the man seemed to recognize him, he didn’t feel reassured in the least.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said carefully. “Break, you look terrible…”

“Still looking for your young master?” the prisoner snickered, startling Gilbert. “I heard the _funniest_ story about him....”

The look he gave him was impossible to read. Break’s eye was sunken and piercing like a fire in a cave. Some golden dust clung to his eyelashes. His cheeks were a feverish red.

“Two poor lost little rabbits stick together,” the prisoner sing-sang. “One has been dead for a century. The other is a Chain. Two Blood-Stained Black Rabbits.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened:

“Alice. Where is she now?”

“Oh, you are going to love this,” Break smirked bitterly. “Oz rejected her.”

For several seconds Gilbert stared at Break uncomprehendingly. The prisoner’s breathing came out uneven. It seemed to take considerable effort for him to keep his head straight. Yet his glare was relentless.

“That’s impossible,” Gilbert said.

“And you know what’s _really_ funny?” Break seemed to have more and more trouble breathing. “The seal on his chest didn’t disappear. In fact, the needle advanced right after he rejected Alice. Tic-Toc. Then he passed out.”

“ _What’s wrong with you?_ ” Gilbert took Break by the shoulders in a fit of panic. “How can you laugh in a situation like…”

“I wonder what time it is?” Break was looking up at the ceiling unseeingly. “Let me check on your seal, Oz… At this rate, you will miss the grand finale. Do you think you will see the world crumble from the Abyss? That must be a sight to behold.”

Gilbert pursed his lips. Break couldn’t hear him anymore. He didn’t dare interrupt.

“Then again, even if your seal holds on, you will be cast into the Abyss anyway,” the prisoner sighed. “Speaking of which… Gilbert, would you be so kind as to finish me off? I’d rather not be sent to another dimension with that sewer rat. I’m sure Oz will understand.”

“You… _what?_ What are you talking about…”

“I guess that explains why your little friends didn’t just break my blood mirror,” Break frowned. His skin felt clammy under Gilbert’s hand. “It’s better to send me directly to hell along with Mad Hatter. All four red-eyed hindrances in one go. Very clean.”

Realization froze Gilbert to the spot.

“You’re delirious,” he said. He couldn’t keep his voice from trembling. “They can’t do this. Damn it, _not you too!_ ”

“My head does feel a bit fuzzy.”

As if on cue, Break’s head lolled on his shoulder, like the string holding it had just broken.

“ _Don’t fall asleep!_ ” Gilbert held Break’s cheek in a shaking hand. “I’ll get someone, please hang on…”

“I couldn’t protect you either… Oz. Forgive me,” came the prisoner’s thick voice. “Emily… Alice… for your…wish....”

Break had gone back to murmuring nonsensical words. His whole body was shivering. Gilbert was scared of leaving him like that, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with his fellow contractor. He was even more afraid of leaving Break after the few revelations he had gotten out of the prisoner.

But given Break’s current state, how many of them could Gilbert accept as facts, and not a part of the man’s delirium?

Gilbert loosened Break’s collar with shaking fingers, pulled a handkerchief from his front pocket, and used it to wipe most of the sweat off the prisoner’s face. He flinched when he moved a wet bang off Break’s forehead. The glassy red eye and empty socket glared back at him.

That much was true. Not only was Break a Child of Misfortune, but Mad Hatter was one of the only Chains in existence that could kill the Baskervilles. Just like B-Rabbit. Yet the Baskervilles had let them live.

Vincent was right. Glen Baskerville intended to sacrifice them all to the Abyss.

“I will find another way,” Gilbert stuttered. “I will get you out of here, I promise.”

He owed Break that much, and he couldn’t stand to see him like this. The man appeared so unnervingly fragile that Gilbert was afraid he might sink into the wall.

Gilbert crouched down, and felt for the black feather that would let him out. His extinguished candle had long disappeared in the darkness of the prison cell, so Gilbert just let his left hand wander on the stone floor. His fingers closed around the feather automatically.

With a last apology to Break’s slumped form, Gilbert fled the room. As he raced through the labyrinth, he had to rely on the faint glow of the breaking chains not to bump into walls. He heard Zwei’s humming before he even saw the light of the candlestick she was holding. He found Vincent slumbering against the wall with the young girl on his lap.

“Vince! Quick, Break needs help!”

Vincent opened his eyes, and greeted him with a yawn. Gilbert didn’t even bother to help him up, and made haste to describe Break’s symptoms. Back at the Nightray manor, whenever Gilbert fell sick, his little brother had always taken care of him. He would know what to do.

Halfway through Gilbert’s explanations, Zwei gave an excited cry of recognition. Vincent blinked back the sleepiness, and held a pensive finger to his chin:

“Oh? So that’s where it went.”

“What?”

“Poison,” Vincent clarified. “Before I came to fetch you at the Nightray house, I noticed that a drug was missing from my collection.”

Gilbert took a step back.

“Break was poisoned? But who… _why?_ ”

“It wasn’t me.”

One of the candle flames went out in a thin curl of smoke. The darkness seemed to be closing in on them, along with the collapsing otherworldly chains. Gilbert felt claustrophobic in the faint circle of the candlelight. Without moving from his position, crossed-legged on the dirty floor, Vincent glanced down at Zwei:

“You didn’t happen to borrow from my collection without permission, did you?”

Zwei looked up at the two brothers with a grin, her teeth pearly white in the dark, and shook her head. But that question was the least of Gilbert’s concerns:

“Vincent, that poison…”

“It’s not lethal,” Vincent waved his worries off. “It is a painful hallucinogen that usually causes the victim to lose all contact with reality for several hours. From the description you gave, Mister Hatter was administered a strong dose. Possibly the full bottle.”

“What about the antidote?”

“I left it at the manor,” Vincent said apologetically. “I should have figured that I would need it, but I was worried about you. I am afraid I wasn’t thinking straight. Zwei, are you sure you don’t know anything about this?”

The girl kept shaking her head and snuggling deeper against Vincent, her gleeful smirk unwavering in spite of the man’s severe expression.

“Why would anyone poison him?” Gilbert’s voice was still shaking from the sorry state he had found Break in. “He was already imprisoned… _What’s going on here?_ ”

“It is rather strange,” Vincent nodded. “Zwei, if you have no answer to give, I will have to ask Echo.”

The girl’s smile vanished. Gilbert’s ears perked up:

“Echo?” he asked hopefully. “She’s still here?”

“But she doesn’t know anything!” Zwei slammed the candlestick to the ground in a fountain of fire and molten wax, extinguishing three flames out of the remaining four. She turned round to face Vincent, her voice rising in protest: “She’s completely useless!”

Vincent put a hand on her head, and hushed her softly:

“It doesn’t hurt to ask, does it? Now move aside.”

Zwei clenched her teeth. She was clenching Vincent’s robe so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as the man stroked her hair.

“I don’t want to go,” she pouted. “I want to see the gathering. Master Glen told me to stay here....”

She trailed off when Vincent kissed her forehead:

“But unlike Echo, you would do anything I asked of you, wouldn’t you?”

It was certainly a trick of the light, but for a second Zwei’s eyes seemed to shine with repressed tears. She closed them tightly, and inclined her head in a slow nod.

Gilbert held his breath. After several seconds of heavy silence, the young girl raised her hand. There was a spark when the sole remaining candlelight hit jewellery; the silver ring that held back a strand of hair at her right temple. She removed it sharply.

“Echo?” Gilbert called gently.

White bangs hid her eyes from view, and her shoulders were shaking under the Baskerville’s cloak. The young girl wouldn’t look at either of them. At long last, without lifting her head, she answered in her usual toneless voice:

“Noise told the truth. I don’t know who took the poison.”

“Oh well, it was worth a try,” Vincent sighed, and pushed her off his lap.

Echo stood up immediately, and pulled her coat-tails away from the candle flame in a swift sweeping motion. She was still refusing to look at Gilbert. Vincent picked up the candlestick, and leant on the wall to get to his feet. The light wavered after him.

“What do we do now, brother?”

Gilbert looked back at the labyrinth he had left Break in. It was pitch black save for the occasional golden drop. The man clenched Raven’s feather in his fingers. If someone had taken Break’s situation as an opportunity to poison him....

“I have to check on Oz!”

A small hand clasped his forearm. When he looked down, Gilbert met Echo’s steady gaze. With her wide grey eyes, she appeared incredibly young in the Baskerville’s cloak. The incongruity of it dispelled some of the man’s panic. It was the very first time he saw fear on her face.

She shook her head once.

“You know we don’t have much time, brother,” Vincent stepped up to them, and glared warningly at Echo. “Zai Vessalius will be here any minute now.”

“ _Exactly,_ ” Gilbert told him in a firm voice, though he could still feel his arm trembling under Echo’s grip. “Why would anyone poison Break at a time like this? There’s something wrong, Vince! I have to make sure Oz is alright, and warn my master!”

“In that case, Master Gilbert,” Echo said, her eyes burning into his. “Would you allow me to keep your pistols for you?”

Gilbert gasped. Echo’s gaze was clear and unwavering, and still her face was white. He could see his own worry reflected in those eyes. Suddenly Gilbert remembered her distress from the day before, when Oz had been shot. When _he_ had shot Oz.

“No…” Gilbert shuddered. “That’s not enough. I can’t see Oz like this....”

But he had to. Gilbert had to confirm how much of what Break had told him was the truth. And there was the threat of the poisoner. He couldn’t leave Oz alone.

“Brother,” Vincent put a hand on his shoulder. “Is this worth trying your master’s patience?”

The gloved hand was heavy with weariness. Something about Vincent’s jaded tone lit a spark of inspiration. Gilbert turned round.

“Vince,” he whispered. “The Dormouse. Would its power work on a Baskerville?”

Vincent’s hand stilled.

“Yes,” he answered. “I experimented on Zwei in the past.”

Gilbert took a sharp breath. He decided to leave the scolding on Vincent’s relationship with both Zwei and Echo for later. The immediate situation called for drastic measures. He stared intently into Vincent’s mismatched eyes:

“Then come with me. I’ll leave my pistols with Echo, but when I see Oz, I’m not sure how I will react. If you think I’m about to hurt him, put me to sleep immediately.”

Echo let go of his arm. Vincent lowered his gaze to look at the dying flame on the candlestick. It made the rings under his eyes more apparent. His reluctance was manifest.

“Please, Vince,” Gilbert insisted. “I have to find out what’s going on. It’s not just about Oz… This might be my only chance to save you and Break.”

Vincent took a shaky inspiration. The candlestick changed hands. Then the contractor took his left glove off listlessly, one finger at a time.

“You don’t need to justify yourself, Gil,” he said. “I would do anything for you.”

Gilbert bent his head to remove his holsters, and to hide his embarrassment. He really needed to have a long talk about co-dependency with his brother after all this. Right now, he had to make sure there would be an after.

“Echo, would you look after Break?” Gilbert asked as he handed his weapons to the young servant. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself....”

Echo nodded. Gilbert gave her Raven’s feather, and briefly explained to her how to use it. As soon as he was done, she told them the location of Oz’s cell in one breath. After a short bow, the young girl turned on her heels, and disappeared into the black maze, leaving a faint trail of twinkling drops on her wake.

In the meantime, the mysterious bundle had found its way back under Vincent’s arm. Gilbert barely took notice. He put his left glove back on as he ran through the golden rain, and climbed the first set of stone stairs four at a time.

Vincent followed close on his heels. The race put out the remaining candle flame. Darkness flecked with gold fell on them. There was a clanging noise when Vincent discarded the useless candlestick. Gilbert made sure he could still hear his little brother’s steps right behind him, and made a V-turn to the right.

They had just reached the foot of Pandora’s West Wing tower, and had run into a winding corridor. Unlike the one they had just left, it was faintly lit. That made it easier for Gilbert to ignore the breaking chains, and focus on the growing light ahead. He had to bite back the urge to call for Oz. The image of the boy’s broken body in the rain was still fresh in his mind. His guilt and apprehension only made him run faster.

Oz was alive. Vincent wouldn’t lie about this. But Gilbert had to see him. Somewhere in Pandora Headquarters, there was a poisoner, whose motives were unknown. Oz was alone and defenceless.

The corridor opened onto a small, square room. Gilbert froze in his tracks.

Oz was here, huddled up on the floor behind iron bars with his hands tied behind his back. His eyes were glazed, and his white undershirt was stained an angry red where Gilbert had shot him. In front of the boy, wan like the deathless man he was channelling, stood the young vessel of Glen Baskerville.

He turned slowly to face Gilbert, showing no sign of surprise or reproach. Yet his ageless stare seemed to pin the servant down.

Gilbert’s eyes darted to Oz. He saw his terror mirrored on the boy’s face; sickly pale, desperate, and so vulnerable Gilbert wanted to scream. He felt his master’s eyes boring into him, the incontrollable pull in his left hand.

The servant heard Glen take a breath. He wanted to cover his ears, but his body wouldn’t move.

When suddenly, Gilbert felt gloveless fingers sink into his hair, and heard the faint swelling sound of a plump Chain materialising above his head. The bowed tip of the Dormouse’s tail hovered close to his ear.

“Lord Glen Baskerville,” Vincent said respectfully. “Give my brother an order of any kind, and I shall put him to sleep.”

Glen furrowed his brow. His wistful gaze seemed to embrace both siblings, heavy with regret and compassion. The ghost’s presence was pouring from Leo’s very being, spreading like wings until it filled the room. The red cloak he was draped in made the vessel look unnervingly imposing. The sight of the small prisoner at his feet made it nigh unbearable.

Gilbert didn’t dare move a muscle. Behind Leo, he could see Oz’s eyes moving from one captor to the other, and get brighter as the boy processed the situation.

Glen sighed:

“We don’t have the time for this…”

“Gil!” Oz interrupted. Gilbert flinched when the boy crawled to get closer, regardless of his wound. Vincent held him in place. “Please… Save Alice!”

“Oz, I…!”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Oz hissed, urgency and pain clouding his gaze. “You don’t owe me anything. Please… This is the last thing I’ll ask of you: save Alice.”

Gilbert wanted to protest, but his master beat him to it. The servant recognized Glen’s resigned tone from the previous evening. The ghost’s stentorian voice made him shiver:

“Alice is dead.”

The words were truthful rather than harsh. There was no resentment in Glen’s eyes when he looked down at Oz. Only patience and pity. The boy looked at him with distress, and screwed his eyes shut.

“ _I know!_ ” he was doubled-over on the floor, gasping in fast, desperate cries. “She died because of me. To stop Jack. Then, Alice… Her soul came back for me… She....”

Oz had to swallow a shuddering breath before he could continue:

“…She took my powers so I couldn’t destroy anything anymore. She became a Chain… because of me....”

Gilbert stared at Oz’s shaking hunched form, flabbergasted. Break’s words rang in his ears. _“One has been dead for a century. The other is a Chain.”_ Gilbert’s heart was beating erratically, in synch with the mad pulse in his left hand. _“Two Blood-Stained Black Rabbits.”_ If it was true, did it mean that Alice still had the power to…?

Oz raised his head to look at them through the bars. His expression was so heartbroken and determined the servant felt it like a punch to the gut.

“This is why I broke the contract,” Oz said. “So Alice could be herself again, rather than B-Rabbit. She is no longer a threat to you. I’m the only one who can break the chains. I beg of you…” he was talking to the three of them, but his eyes were looking straight at Gilbert: “Save her.”

Gilbert could only stare helplessly. He had no idea what to say, or if there was even a way to bring Alice back.

It struck him how quiet his master was. Gilbert glanced sideways at Glen.

The ghost was staring at Oz in silence. He seemed to have forgotten everything, from the two siblings who had burst into the room, to the breaking chains all around him. Leo’s bangs were casting shadows into his eyes. They wavered in front of the dilemma. For a moment, they looked like Oswald’s, on that fateful day in Sablier, when Jack had told him to lower his sword.

When suddenly, Oz’s upper body hit the floor with a faint thud. Gilbert took a step forward, but the Dormouse was looming overhead. Its stitched eyes stared right at him, like a reminder of the bullet wound that had reduced Oz to this state. Gilbert didn’t dare go further.

Looking back at Oz, for the first time, Gilbert noticed the four sealing stones and pentacle inside the cell. Their sharp edges caged the boy more efficiently than any metal or injury could.

The hard floor scraped Oz’s cheek when the boy turned his head to face them.

“Please… Use the pocket watch,” Oz panted, and tilted his chin towards the thin chain dangling from Leo’s left pocket. “Alice will recognize the melody. She will come to you.”

For a long minute, there was nothing but the clinking of the chains, and Oz’s heavy breathing and occasional pleas to fill the silence. Gilbert wanted nothing more than to reach out, wrap the quavering boy in his coat, and take him away from here. He thought he could smell the blood from where he stood, a tangible reminder of his betrayal. The metallic smell was turning his stomach. Its essence weighed down on Gilbert, and kept him rooted to the spot.

At last Glen spoke in a deep, strained voice:

“I will… consider it.”

“I will!” Gilbert interjected. “I will do it!”

Glen turned to him with a sweeping of his cape. This time, Gilbert held his gaze. The young vessel had a noble bearing, his every movement filled with purpose. Yet his face was full of doubt. It was creased with a hundred years’ worth of mourning.

Gilbert understood. As leader of the Baskervilles, Glen couldn’t choose to spare such a dangerous Chain so easily. Not without any proof that she was no longer a Chain. Regardless, Alice was his treasured niece. Furthermore, she was Oz’s friend. They shouldn’t hesitate.

“I will save Alice,” Gilbert repeated. “So....”

He couldn’t help but look back at Oz. The servant thought he saw a spark on the boy’s eyes. A fragile hope, like a candle in a storm. Oz mouthed “thank you.” The gleam was gone in the blink of an eye.

Gilbert was paralyzed. He was dying to say something, _anything_ to bring some life back into Oz. But no apology could ever convey his regrets, the extent of his shame and self-loathing. No apology would change a thing. Whatever Gilbert did, he would always be a traitor.

In the end, only three words made it out of his lips:

“Wait for me.”

Oz gave no reaction. His head had sled close to one of the sealing stones. He just lay there with his golden hair sprawled around, his eyes taking in Gilbert’s face like he was seeing it for the last time.

“We should go,” Glen said softly.

Gilbert called out Oz’s name. Glen seized his servant’s arm, and pulled him away. Vincent’s fingers dug into his other arm in warning. Gilbert didn’t break eye contact with Oz until they pulled him through the corridor, and the young prisoner disappeared from view.

The Dormouse vanished in the same moment. Vincent let go of his brother’s head.

“Actually, my lord,” he said over Gilbert’s cries. “There was a small matter my brother wished to tell you about.”

The offhand remark made Gilbert gasp. How could he have forgotten…

“The poison!” Gilbert turned terrified eyes towards his master. “We can’t leave Oz like this! Someone poisoned Break, we have to…”

The possessed boy glanced at them without slowing down, his long cape flapping about his back as he ran. Vincent did most of the explanation, as Gilbert was too agitated to be coherent. Besides, his little brother knew more about poisoning and plotting than he did.

Glen’s gaze turned sombre:

“There is no time to investigate.”

They came upon two red-cloaked figures guarding a grand wooden door. As soon as they saw their master approaching, they moved as one to open the door for him. The outside wind filled Glen’s cape like blood red wings, and seemed to amplify his next words:

“We have to put a stop to the breaking of the chains now, or it will be too late.”

“But what if Oz gets poisoned?”

“Are you still fretting over that thing?”

The voice alone was enough to freeze Gilbert’s blood in his veins. Before he knew it, they were back outside, their boots sinking deep into the wet grass, face to face with Zai Vessalius. The Griffon’s contractor sneered at the servant:

“And here I thought you had finally opened your eyes to the truth. You were there both times the little abomination nearly destroyed the world, weren’t you?”

“ _You…_ ” Gilbert growled. “How _dare_ you…!”

He felt a small hand rest on his forearm. Glen’s deep voice enveloped him from behind like a nocturnal fog. Its overpowering influence was unclenching Gilbert’s fists, leaving him lost and harmless in front of his sworn enemy.

“It is meaningless to blame a Chain for what its contractor orders it to do,” Glen looked at Zai steadily. “And this isn’t about the Black Rabbit. Our priority is to restore the balance of this world.”

Leo’s features softened when Glen glanced up at Gilbert:

“I will send Charlotte to look after Oz.”

Zai snorted. Gilbert threw his master a fleeting grateful glance, and his eyes turned saucer wide. Next to Charlotte Baskerville, whom Glen was now addressing, stood Duke Barma. The latter was pushing the wheelchair of a very unharmed Sheryl Rainsworth.

“Madam Duchess!” Gilbert exclaimed. “Are you alright? Sharon said you were…”

“It looks like Duke Barma took us for fools, Master Glen,” Charlotte scowled at the aforementioned duke. “His supposed ‘attack’ on the duchess was nothing but an illusion.”

Her remark didn’t seem to faze the duke in the slightest. He was busy studying the golden rain with unsuppressed excitement, and didn’t even spare the young woman a glance when he answered:

“Is this reproach I hear?” He shrugged. “I honoured my commitments. Not only did I give you the Rainsworths’ key as promised, I even went through the trouble of revealing my precious information about my ancestor’s notes and explaining the whole truth about the Tragedy of Sablier to the Pandora staff. Furthermore, I was helpful enough to participate to this most tedious…”

A paper fan slapped him across the face, effectively cutting his ranting short.

“I wanted to uncover the truth as much as you did, Ruf, but you went a little far,” the Duchess gave a tight-lipped smile. “We both own my granddaughter an apology.”

Gilbert looked from one to the other. He tried to read the duchess in particular, but her wrinkled face was ever frozen in her perpetual smile. It was impossible to guess what was on her mind. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that Break had been captured, nor that the Baskervilles and their allied illegal contractors were tracking Sharon.

“I would also like to make one thing perfectly clear, Lord Baskerville,” she turned her pleasant smile towards Glen. “I will be lending you the power of the Owl for this task alone. The fates of my servant, Oz Vessalius, and Lord Nightray here present, are another matter entirely.”

Gilbert’s heart swelled with hope. Since Leo had barely had time to get used to the Jabberwocky’s power, his body wouldn’t be able to handle a contract with the remaining four Black Winged Chains for years to come. With things being as they were, no one could be sent to the deepest level of the Abyss unless the four Great Dukes and Glen Baskerville all agreed on it. And it sounded like the duchess, at least, would be against it.

Charlotte Baskerville glared at the duchess, but Glen simply inclined his head in acknowledgment. The young woman bit back her disapproval, and with a bow to her master, she was gone.

Gilbert promised himself to go over and talk to Glen as soon as their current mission would be over. Back in Sablier, his master had had no time to think of one, but there had to be a way to free Oz of Jack’s influence without killing him. Gilbert also needed to convince him to reconsider the beliefs surrounding Children of Misfortune.

Glen had walked to the centre of their circle. Bathed in golden light in the hour before dawn, the possessed boy looked like he had stepped right out of the Abyss. He glanced up at the sky, and for a second Leo’s eyes looked like twin doors to the universe. Now more than ever, Gilbert felt the overwhelming power that bound him to this being. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

“This situation is different from Sablier,” Glen’s voice seemed to come from all around them rather than Leo’s body, vibrating along the breaking chains. “With one contractor for each Black Winged Chain, it becomes possible to control them all at the same time. We are going to stop the breaking of the chains that hold this world. But after that, I want each of you to guide your Chains as they recreate the chains that the Black Rabbit already destroyed. If we succeed, even the epicentre might be saved.”

Gilbert’s hand flew to his chest, where the blood mirror was heating against his racing heart. They might be able to prevent another Tragedy after all. He hadn’t dared to hope for that much.

But then, if anyone could pull it off, it was his master. All traces of doubt had vanished from Leo’s features, and Glen was entirely taken up by the current crisis. He pulled the watch out of his pocket, and held it out for all to see.

“In order to control them at such a distance, please hold on to your entrusted key. On my signal, open the doors, and summon your Chains.”

Gilbert looked around him. Duke Barma and Duchess Rainsworth were holding matching earrings in their outstretched hands. While Gilbert’s attention was distracted, Zai Vessalius had assembled a square three-footed device.

“That’s Lord Oscar’s camera!” Gilbert exclaimed, outraged.

“This is the Vessalius’ key,” Zai retorted with an indulgent smirk. “In these times of crisis, it belongs to the contractor of the Griffon.”

“You stole it,” Gilbert growled. “Lord Oscar would never have parted with it! What did you do to him?”

“Will you stop this squeamishness, young Nightray?” came Duke Barma’s shrewish voice. “You have duties to fulfil.”

Only then, still half seething from Zai’s impudence, did Gilbert notice Vincent’s presence next to him. His little brother had unwrapped the long bundle he had been carrying all evening. He held it out to Gilbert with both hands, like an offering. Golden drops fell on a long, evening black blade, and the curved shape of its dark hilt.

“This is yours.”

Gilbert’s throat felt constricted. He couldn’t breathe.

“But… this is…!”

“The Nightrays’ key,” Vincent told him with a bitter smile. “One of the many burdens that our dear father let Elliot carry in his stead.”

Gilbert could hear Duke Barma clearing his throat behind him. He took the hilt in a shaking hand, and lifted the blade vertically. The black metal reflected the broken chains in a cold glimmer.

Elliot’s sword. It was heavier than he expected, with the ease his adopted brother used to show whenever he drew the weapon. Gilbert could still see the teenager holding it to his chest like a faithful companion.

_“This sword has been entrusted to me by my father as a symbol of my place in the Nightray household. That’s why I have to carry it with me all the time.”_

Gilbert’s eyes stung. He turned his head away from Vincent, and met Glen’s even stare through the rain of broken chains.

“Are you alright?” the possessed boy asked.

It was hard to answer straight away. Gilbert saw the bottomless compassion in Glen’s haunted eyes, how tightly Leo’s long fingers were clenching the pocket watch. This tiny object was the sole memento Oswald had of his past friendship with Jack, and of his long lost sister. To be sure, the Baskervilles’ key held its fair share of memories, for master and servant alike. Gilbert thought of Oz, and shut his eyes tightly.

This watch had turned Oz’s world upside down. Jack had used this very object to transcend time and get to him, so he could use Oz again to destroy the world. It was up to the Baskervilles to reverse it, using this very watch.

Gilbert took off his left glove, and presented arm:

“Yes, master.”

Glen smiled. With a flick of Leo’s finger, he opened the pocket watch.

The first notes of ‘Lacie’ drifted along with the black feathers. Next came the cries of the giant birds. A pair of wings spread behind each contractor, swallowing the lit night in an ocean of darkness. Gilbert felt the heat of Raven’s blue flames burning at his back, and in his deepest being. He thought he heard the heart of all five birds beat as one, each pulse shaking him to the core. The servant brandished the sword.

With a raise of the contractors’ arms, all five Black Winged Chains took flight.

It felt like a storm had started in the creatures’ wake. The golden flakes went flying in a wild dance all around their contractors. Long after the birds had disappeared in the night sky, and the wind from their take off had been brought down, the lights kept twirling madly. They were clinking together, twinkling and chinking in a chorus of light and sound.

The sword heated in Gilbert’s gloved hand. He felt the drain of his contract with renewed intensity, the blood mirror red hot against his naked skin. The man held on to the sword like an anchor in the storm, and kept it pointed straight at the sky, towards the eye of the cyclone.

He could hear Zai’s deep throaty breathing close by, and gritted his teeth. It made Gilbert sick to feel a connection of any kind with that man. Yet all five contractors were breathing the same stormy air, reaching for the heavens, with the hearts of their Chains beating in synch against their chests.

Far above, the giant birds swooped down on the swirling lights, and disappeared. The sword quaked in Gilbert’s hand, but the contractor held strong. The smell of drenched feathers and fire was everywhere, and fiery dots invaded the man’s vision.

Gilbert felt the pull as the Griffon soared through the sky, dragging a set of golden chains with its talons. He heard a sharp intake from the duchess when the Owl separated the chains with a flap of its wings, and sent them swirling in all directions. Gilbert hunched his shoulders, and the Raven’s flames lit the night sky a bright blue.

The Dodo was flying in circles above the three birds. Its long wings were throwing golden drops into the furnace. With each flapping of its wings, Duke Barma’s fingers tightened around the back of the duchess’ wheelchair, but the man kept his head held high, enraptured by the sight above.

Only Glen appeared unaffected, save for the beads of sweat on Leo’s face, which glinted under the fire. The possessed boy was breathing deeply through his nose, and staring into the blaze. His melancholic eyes had turned bright gold. Gilbert felt a pang at the sight. In spite of the heat, nostalgia chilled him to the bone. Up above, the Jabberwocky was flying from one Chain to the other, guiding their moves, shooting fire at the broken chains that escaped their hold.

Gradually the clinking was changing, culminating into a strangely familiar tune....

Gilbert’s eyes widened when he recognized it. Among the chinking pieces of broken chains, he heard excerpts from the melody ‘Lacie.’ The contractor heard more than he saw the chains coming together. When the Raven seemed about to get out of control, Gilbert redirected the sword, and pointed in the direction where the melody was faintest. Little by little, it filled his ears, in tune with the five birds’ flapping giant wings, and Gilbert felt like he could reach out and touch the chains.

There was a small smile on his master’s face. Gilbert grinned back.

Under the guidance of the Jabberwocky, his Chain was dragging the chains from the Abyss, through the Nightray door, and into their world. The Raven breathed fire on the broken chains, melting them into countless links, connecting them with a clicking of its beak. On the five Chains went, and with every flapping of their wings, Gilbert felt more air leaving his lungs. The feeling was too overwhelming for the man to care.

All of a sudden, the pressure loosened. Gilbert took a sharp intake of breath, and fell to his knees. He was shaking like a leaf. He tried hard not to pass out, hanging on to the sword for dear life. The hilt still felt warm, and he could feel the mirror burning him. Yet for some reason, the Raven’s efforts seemed focused rather than wild. The Chain had stopped struggling against its contractor’s control.

Gilbert looked up at the sky. The rain had stopped. Stray black feathers drifted in the wind, black against the navy blue of the ending night. As far as the eye could see, there was a long string of entwined chains glinting under the stars. And somewhere far away, the echo of the tune that had inspired Glen to compose ‘Lacie.’ As Raven’s blood mirror thumped against his heart, Gilbert wondered if his master had witnessed the birth of the world.

A wet thump distracted the contractor from his thoughts. When he looked down, Gilbert realized to his horror that Glen Baskerville had collapsed on the grass. Overtaken by an awful sense of déjà vu, Gilbert got up and staggered to the possessed boy’s side, slipping every three steps.

Vincent beat him there. He crouched down to help the vessel sit up in the muddy grass. Gilbert knelt next to them, and called his master, but no answer would come. The servant held a shaking hand before the boy’s face. He was relieved to feel a puff of hot breath on his skin.

“Calm down,” came the exhausted voice of Duke Barma.

When he turned towards him, Gilbert found that the duke had all but collapsed against the duchess’ wheelchair. The contractor of the Dodo was using the rest of his strength to enlighten them on the situation:

“The worst is over,” the duke heaved, a drained self-satisfied smirk plastered to his face. “We have successfully reconstructed the foundations. Our Chains can handle the rest on their own. As long as none of them loses its contractor, nothing can hinder the reconstruction of the chains now. Even if we… pass out....”

To Gilbert’s amazement, with this last sentence, the man proceeded to do just that. The duchess’ wheelchair seemed to have gotten stuck in the mud, and the back of the chair broke the duke’s fall. He was now slumped precariously across the hard wood, with the duchess fast asleep next to him.

“In that case,” Vincent chuckled. “I suggest that we escort the good duke and Lady Rainsworth somewhere they can rest.”

“Your reinforcements are on their way,” Zai Vessalius said.

To Gilbert’s eternal dismay, the man appeared to have taken the experience rather lightly. His cane supported most of his weight, and he was sweating profusely, but none of it had been enough to make him lose his composure.

Right on cue, the two red-cloaked figures that had been guarding the door rushed to their side. Glen stirred at their touch:

“No,” he breathed.

Gilbert started.

“Just take care of the two Lords and the Duchess,” the possessed boy went on. “Vincent… escort Gilbert and I somewhere we can rest.”

Vincent sent Gilbert a pointed look, and the latter resolved to obey without comment.

“Keep this with you,” Vincent gave the sword case to Gilbert, and helped Glen to his feet. “You might need it again if Raven gets out of control. Can you walk?”

Gilbert nodded. His hands were unsteady as he sheathed Elliot’s sword and buckled it under his coat, but it looked like his legs could hold on a while more. With the poisoner on the loose, Gilbert couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

As he followed Vincent back inside, he threw a backward suspicious glance at Zai. Gilbert wouldn’t put it past that man to poison Break and keep his own agenda. If he decided to strike again, would Echo and Charlotte be enough to stop him? Whoever the poisoner was, this person had to be resourceful to have walked past Zwei once. They had to unmask the culprit, and fast.

Gilbert had to lean on the walls for support as he followed Vincent through the corridors, and paused every twenty seconds to catch his breath. The more he walked, the more the contractor suffered from the aftereffects of Raven’s powers. It came as a huge relief when Vincent finally picked an empty room and helped Glen to a sofa.

As soon as the boy was comfortably sat, Vincent rushed to help Gilbert sit next to him. Gilbert sank in the plush cushions, and tipped his head back. For several seconds, the two Baskervilles just sat motionless next to each other, and tried to catch their breath. Gilbert listened as Glen’s breathing slowly evened out. He turned to look at the vessel closely.

The boy was screwing his eyes, his face bathed in cold sweat. When Vincent held out a handkerchief to wipe it, he batted his hand away. Even Glen’s voice sounded smaller as the boy struggled to stay awake. Gilbert sat up straighter:

“Are you…Leo?”

Leo’s half-lidded eyes seemed pitch black as they stared back at him. He looked like he had just been rescued from drowning: exhausted, yet determined to breathe and talk. Gilbert could read half-formed sentences on his lips, but deep gasps were all he could hear. Vincent advised the boy to take it easy, but the latter just gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Gilbert,” he wheezed. “What are you trying to do?”

Gilbert felt his features relax slightly. A strange mix of relief and apprehension settled in his chest. This voice was nothing like his master’s; he was positive it was Leo talking to him. The boy had recovered after all. Probably due to the excessive use Oswald had made of the Jabberwocky’s powers, Leo had been able to take control again.

“…What do you mean?” Gilbert asked, his own voice weak from the experience. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Leo. Gilbert had no idea what had happened when Oz had gone to face the other boy, aside from the fact that Leo had been badly injured. His midnight eyes were piercing through Gilbert, in search of something the man couldn’t place.

“You know what I mean,” Leo said in a rasping tone. “You went to Xerxes Break. You came back for Oz. You even had Vincent summon the Dormouse so you wouldn’t attack him.”

Leo clenched his jaws and rubbed at his temple furiously, in a strangely familiar fashion. Gilbert’s heart skipped a beat when he realized what this reminded him of: he always reacted like this when foreign voices invaded his mind.

“You defied your master’s orders,” Leo said curtly. “Why?”

“I… I didn’t!” Gilbert protested. Suddenly he realized he had put a hand to his own temple, in what was turning into a frightening habit. “I wasn’t trying to hide this from master! I wanted to find a way to get rid of Jack without killing Oz! I meant to talk to you…to master about it. About the Children of Misfortune, too. But first…”

Leo sniggered. It was barely noticeable with his erratic breathing. But his humourless, self-depreciative smile spoke a thousand words:

“Ha ha… No wonder he was so worried....”

“I am serious!” Gilbert insisted. “I _will_ discuss this with him, but first we have to find out who poisoned Break!”

“Glen did.”

Whatever Gilbert had been about to say vanished from his mind.

There was a fixed grin on Leo’s face, and a glint in his surreal eyes. Something akin to pity.

“The one who was controlling my body,” the boy added. “I think his given name was Oswald? He stole Vincent’s drug, and used it on Xerxes Break after Zwei captured him.”

In his peripheral vision, Gilbert saw Vincent nod with a bitter smile of his own. He didn’t look remotely surprised.

But that couldn’t be right.

“It’s ridiculous,” it almost sounded like the gravely voice from his past speaking through Gilbert’s mouth. “Why would master…”

“Because he was afraid you would go to Break,” Leo answered. “That you would start to question his decisions, and rely on other people instead. Moreover, on his enemies. Why do you think he relieved Charlotte to guard Oz?”

Suddenly the boy winced, and started rubbing at his forehead, the nails of his other hand digging into the sofa. A short bark of laughter escaped his lips.

“Oh yes, keep telling yourself that,” Leo grumbled with a fixed stare. “‘It’s for his own good.’ You’re saving him from the Destroyer’s evil clutches. This is how things are meant to be. Gilbert belongs with you. Don’t make me laugh....”

Leo was hissing and clawing at the sofa like a furious cat. Gilbert had his back to the arm of the couch, too scared to move. He looked over at his brother to seek for help, but Vincent just held up a hand:

“Let him vent,” the gesture seemed to say. “It will pass soon.”

But Leo showed no sign of calming down. Without warning, he started to yell at an invisible offender. The golden specks in his eyes shone with a morbid glee:

“Just admit that you want your servant for yourself! You would sacrifice everything but Gilbert’s loyalty, because he’s all you’ve left! _You’re just as bad as I am!_ ”

The boy’s shaking hand travelled from his forehead to his chest, and started clutching at his clothes. Gilbert sat up straight:

“Your wound…!”

Leo froze. Gilbert couldn’t form another word. He had even gone numb to the burning touch of the blood mirror. The boy turned to smirk at him, in a nightmarish version of his master’s soothing smiles:

“…Should that really be your main concern right now?”

Gilbert clenched both fists on his knees:

“What you said… It can’t be right. Master knows I can’t betray him.”

“Yet you betrayed Oz.”

Gilbert shuddered. Just hearing it made him want to retch.

“Oswald did it on purpose, you know,” Leo sighed. “Order you to shoot Oz, I mean. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of you having another master, let alone a Chain he intends to destroy.”

“He is…” Gilbert’s voice broke. “He really is going to kill Oz.”

“Yes…” Leo’s pale fingers lingered above his chest wound, and a ghost of regret flickered in his eyes. “‘To restore the Abyss to its former stability,’ or so he claims.”

“And he doesn’t believe there is a way to save Miss Alice, either,” Leo let his hand drop. “Oz broke the contract because he knew she would share his fate. According to Glen, since they are the same Chain, their bond is impossible to break. As long as she lives, she will always hold a destructive power of some form. We would have sent her into the Abyss too, in the end.”

“But…” Gilbert protested feebly. “Master said he would consider it…”

“Oh, he did,” Leo said sardonically. “That hypocrite. He’s not nearly as unfeeling as he likes to pretend. Of course he considered saving his niece, even if he knew she would die anyway. The same way he helped me ‘fix’ Elliot.”

“It didn’t take long, though,” Leo snarled. “Those who become Glen know their priorities. According to the order of things the Baskervilles are trying to preserve, Chains that can destroy other Chains shouldn’t exist. Even if she can’t break the chains that hold the world, Miss Alice still has the power to kill a Baskerville. Therefore, she has to die. When did a single person’s feelings ever matter next to that?”

Gilbert held his head between his hands. He was shaking all over, at a loss as to what to do.

Was this what his master was thinking? All these deaths, the world almost sinking into the Abyss, the madness brought by time travel.... If the Baskervilles restored the former order, would it all really be fixed?

Would it be worth sacrificing generations upon generations of children born with red eyes?

“It won’t solve anything,” Gilbert fisted his hair. “It just means more deaths....”

His master had never wanted to sacrifice Lacie. He didn’t want to kill what was left of his niece, either. And if he did, there was no guarantee that the stability of the Abyss and the world would be restored. It was absurd. Gilbert had had _enough_ of this.

He wished Oz were here.

Oz would know what to do, what was wrong with the situation, and how to fix it. With this sharp mind and emphatic nature of his, his young master had solved many puzzles before this one. If only Gilbert still had his insight....

“I have to save Alice,” Gilbert said.

He didn’t see what else he could do. Even if Oz had only been driven by his own feelings, Gilbert would keep the last promise he had made him. Until the servant found a solution, he would protect Alice with everything he had.

Vincent sighed, clearly disappointed:

“Is this alright with you, Lord Leo?”

“It is alright with _me,_ ” Leo said with a hollow laugh. “I can’t say I speak for all Glens, though.”

“It’s okay,” Gilbert rubbed at his temples to try and clear his head. “I’ll take full responsibility. If any of them has objections, we will talk this through. But we can’t keep things like this.”

Silence fell, and for a short while Gilbert relished the quiet. His headaches were getting scarcer. Then twin howls of laughter made him jump out of his skin.

“Wh-What is it?” Gilbert looked from Vincent to Leo, afraid they had gone into hysterics.

“My dear brother,” Vincent said between helpless giggles. “Ever the diplomat. You are so _adorable._ ”

“Indeed, he is. I can see why Oz and you get along so well,” Leo’s shoulders were shaking. “That’s just the kind of naïve speech that would drive Elliot up a wall.”

Gilbert bit his bottom lip, confused and a little hurt. Leo wiped at his tears. His face was quick to turn serious again. He held out Oswald’s pocket watch.

“Make sure not to rush into this unprepared,” he warned Gilbert. “Think of a way to go into the Abyss and make it back.”

The servant pocketed the music box, and made sure its thin chain was safely hidden from view.

“…I know where Sharon is,” he said. “There might be a way…”

“Don’t tell me,” Leo cut him off sharply. “Glen mustn’t know.”

“But…”

“That’s an order, Gilbert,” Leo glared, the golden specks bright against his black eyes. “Carry out your plan, and keep me in the dark.”

Gilbert could only nod. The boy bent his head, and put a hand on the sword at Gilbert’s waist.

“I am leaving things in your hands,” he said in a hushed voice. “I think… that’s what Elliot would have wanted. You are as foolishly kind as he was.”

Of its own accord, Gilbert’s hand clenched the sword’s hilt. He didn’t know what to say. That he didn’t deserve these words and sword. That he was sorry. That Elliot hadn’t been foolish.

But Gilbert hardly knew Leo. He had no words of comfort to offer. Once again, he wished Oz were here.

Leo lowered his hand in silent farewell. With his hung head and unruly hair, he looked nothing more than a young boy who had lost his best friend. The gesture came naturally. Forgetting that this was Glen Baskerville, leader of the Abyss messengers, and his master from another time, Gilbert patted him on the head. Leo’s shoulders tensed. But when Gilbert let go, the boy seemed to breathe more evenly.

Vincent offered to help him walk. Gilbert was too tired to decline. He leant heavily on his little brother’s shoulder, and let him guide him through the corridors of Pandora Headquarters.

“Take me to Reim,” he whispered as soon as he was sure Leo was out of earshot.

“Of course,” Vincent chuckled. “Who else would know where to find Miss Sharon?”

“I’ll need her help to get back from the Abyss,” Gilbert kept talking into his brother’s ear, to keep his head clear and stay awake. “The problem is how to _get_ there. I can’t wait for a distortion to open a path.... And Raven might not come back in time....”

“You should go back to the Nightray manor,” Vincent said. “I told our driver to keep our carriage ready, just in case. You should save your strength and use the Nightray key to open the Gate.”

“Joseph?” Gilbert asked, startled. “But how would I explain to him…?”

Vincent laughed outright. “He won’t ask. Just tell him to take you to the Nightray manor by the shortest roads, and you will be there in no time. You are a very agreeable duke, after all.”

“What?” Gilbert stared sideways at his brother in confusion. “No, I am not. Duke Nightray’s will…”

“As you are probably aware, servants don’t worry so much about details,” Vincent said lightly. Incongruity aside, it was a small comfort to see that his mood had improved, if only slightly. “You might not have been to the manor in a while, but they all remember you as their kindest master. You even bothered to remember each of their names. As far as they are concerned, you are Duke Nightray.”


	3. Vessalius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Previous chapter summary):
> 
> Glen Baskerville, Zai Vessalius, Sheryl Rainsworth, Rufus Barma and Gilbert Nightray successfully used the power of their five Black Winged Chains to prevent the destruction of the world. But in the meantime, Gilbert found out that Glen intended to send the three of Vincent, Break and Oz to the lowest level of the Abyss.
> 
> Unable to oppose his master directly, but determined to find a third option, Gilbert decides to keep his last promise to Oz, and use the Nightray key to go into the Abyss and rescue Alice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on April 6th 2013 (I can't believe it's been that long... I am ashamed) on FFnet, and contains important spoilers up to and including 'Retrace 82' of 'Pandora Hearts' (which I don't own, by the way; I am merely trying to find a plausible alternate ending to Mochizuki Jun's story).
> 
> I ended up cutting the next chapter in two, because it is proving way too long. (Yes, even longer than this one.) So expect a fourth chapter next week, and I'll do my best to finish the fifth and last one before the manga's last chapter gets translated... but I have upcoming exams, so don't hold your breath.
> 
> A special thanks to GammaCavy for her lovely comments. Thank you for being so patient and supportive, your words really inspired me!

Gilbert had thought that he would be too agitated to rest as Vincent had advised, but exhaustion won him over. No sooner had he boarded the carriage than he fell like a stone on the seats. In spite of the jolts and the sword digging into his side, he slept right through the travel back to the Nightray manor.

Joseph had to shake him awake. Gilbert assured him that he would be fine on his own, and instructed the driver to bring the horses back to the stable. If all went according to plan, Gilbert wouldn’t need them again.

Alone, he hurried across the driveway leading to the Nightray manor. It was strange to feel the weight of a sword at his side after so long. Gilbert hadn’t fenced in two years, not since he had left for the capital: he had always favoured pistols for his missions, as they were easier to conceal. Furthermore, Gilbert had been quick to learn how to incapacitate his targets without killing or crippling them for life. As for assassination… for what is was worth, bullet wounds were less bloody.

Yet before he knew it, Gilbert was adapting his walk to the weight at his side, like the sword had never left. It looked like eight years of sparring with Elliot and being massacred by Break had left their mark on him. And to think Gilbert used to be so far behind, back in the days when Lord Oscar had initiated him into fencing alongside Oz....

Gilbert barged through the double doors, and raced up the carpeted stairs to the second floor. Vincent’s room wasn’t locked. Sharon’s voice rose from Gilbert’s shadow:

**“There is a hidden compartment inside the cabinet to your left. Fit the queen’s crown into the little hole on its left side to open it. The antidote is the small triangular yellow flask.”**

“By ‘queen,’ you mean the chess piece?” the man asked.

**“Yes.”**

Gilbert had already opened the set and taken the black queen. He rushed to the cabinet, and felt for the hole Sharon had mentioned. As Eques’ contractor had said, the tiny crown fit perfectly. Gilbert turned it with a click.

When he opened the compartment, he found an assortment of small crystal bottles glinting in the dark. The flask Sharon had described was tucked between two thicker glass bottles containing a greenish liquid. To Gilbert’s relief, the small flask was full to the brim.

Gilbert crouched down, and placed the bottle on his shivering shadow. A patch of darkness detached itself and swept the clear object along.

“Is that the one?”

**“Yes,”** Sharon answered. **“According to Lord Vincent.”**

Gilbert hesitated in front of the remaining bottles. He heard the distrust in Sharon’s voice. The man couldn’t blame her. Vincent had poisoned her in the past, and he had never been on friendly terms with Break, either. As much as Gilbert wanted to trust his brother, he still couldn’t be positive that Vincent was on their side.

“Maybe you should bring Break and Reim here?” he told the Chain inside his shadow. “If Vincent lied… they might find the true antidote while I am away…”

**“Don’t be ridiculous,”** Sharon cut him off. **“Reim can’t disappear now, and you can’t afford to wait here until I get to Break. Hurry and find Miss Alice. We will take care of the rest.”**

Gilbert shut the cabinet, got to his feet, and descended the stairs four at a time. Sharon was right. There was no time to lose, and they couldn’t afford to doubt each other at the moment. Reim had already taken great risks by freeing Sharon and hiding her, even though it had been on Rufus Barma’s orders – Gilbert winced at the mere thought of the written message, which the Duke had apparently hidden under Reim’s _bandages_ , of all places.

In any case, if the servant disappeared along with Break, it would be far too suspicious. Reim had had no choice but to go back to his master’s side, leaving the task of rescuing Break to Sharon and Vincent. Gilbert could only hope that Break would find a way to save Oz once he had recovered.

“Echo will be there, too,” Gilbert whispered. He didn’t know whether he was trying to reassure Sharon or himself. “I am…not sure where her loyalties lie, but she seemed concerned about Oz.”

**“We will be fine, Gilbert,”** Sharon told him in a gentler tone. **“Please focus on your own task.”**

Gilbert’s steps faltered when he passed the mantelpiece in the Nightray living room. The hat Ada had given him was still there. He touched it tentatively. It had dried while he was away. The material felt smooth and soft against his gloveless fingers.

He was here on Oz’s orders, Gilbert reminded himself. The thought made the weight on his chest a little lighter. He put the hat on, and allowed himself a small smile. As childish as it was, Gilbert had always felt sheltered under its long black brims. He reached the side door and its subterranean passage with renewed determination.

The Nightray Gate was there to greet him, imposing as ever with its high arc, broad gold bars, and the hint of never-ending darkness beyond. Gilbert put a hand to the sword’s hilt without slowing down. He walked up to the door and grabbed the bar. The hard metal slipped right through his fingers.

Darkness engulfed him. Gilbert could hear rattling chains and swashing water all around him. His ears rang from the sudden air pressure. The man walked with purpose. The shallow water hindered his progress. Gradually, he was starting to distinguish vague forms in the dark.

His hand moved to his holster, but met nothingness. He had left his pistols with Echo.

**“Don’t worry,”** Sharon’s voice sounded very close in the darkness. **“Eques can take care of the Chains.”**

Gilbert nodded. He could feel his shadow shudder as he scanned the darkness. The forms he had glimpsed were motionless. The man took careful steps forward. He could make out the eroded contours of ruins and broken furniture. Silence weighed down on him.

Gilbert sighed through his nose. For now, he was alone. However, Chains would definitely feel his presence in their home. They would follow the smell of human blood.

There was only one Chain that Gilbert was after. He fished the music box out of his pocket, and flicked it open.

The sad tune made for strange background noise as Gilbert splashed his way across the water, deeper and deeper into the darkness. It sounded eerie and defeated, like a requiem. But Gilbert had no intention to die here.

He called Alice’s name. Nothing. Not even a drop of water in the distance. Every move Gilbert made seemed deafening in the silence, yet strangely muffled. There wasn’t enough air to carry an echo. It was suffocating.

Gilbert kept calling. Neither his voice nor the dreamlike melody could drown out the ringing in his ears. The dark brims of his hat looked grey against the murk of the Abyss. The occasional broken toy floated by in the sky-less wasted landscape, but there was no trace of a little girl or giant rabbit.

The man skirted around the square point of what looked like an old giant chess set, with its broken tip immersed like a surreal iceberg. The more he walked, the more Gilbert feared that his search was hopeless. Mere hours in the outside world could equal to an eternity in the Abyss. Gilbert might be anchored to Sharon’s time through Eques and their connected shadows, but Alice was on her own. Did she even have enough power left to defend herself against the other Chains? What if she was…

Gilbert stopped and strained his ears. He thought he had heard a voice.

_**“…Hatter....”** _

Gilbert started:

“Break?”

**“We found him,”** Sharon replied hastily. **“Xerx, hang in there!”**

Her disembodied voice was full of anguish. Trembling words were drifting to him through the gurgle of the waters at his feet. Gilbert could barely understand their meaning. He took a reluctant step forward. The splash drowned Sharon’s voice, along with the faded echoes of Vincent and Break, and the broken notes of the pocket watch. Gilbert halted his steps. Gradually, the water stilled around his ankles. Breathless words drifted to his ears:

**_“…will thank you when you stop this sickening hobby of collecting poisons, you little rat.”_ **

“Break!” A wave of relief washed over Gilbert. “Are you alright?”

_**“How wounding, Mister Hatter,”**_ came Vincent’s sultry voice. _**“After all the trouble Miss Sharon and I went through…”**_

_**“Yes, I’ll be sure to thank Gilbert for taking advantage of that brother complex of yours. How considerate. Not only does he treat me like an invalid, but he had to send** _ **you** _**to play nurse.”** _

“H-Hey!” Gilbert protested. “It wasn’t Vincent’s fault if that bottle got stolen!”

**“They can’t hear you, Gilbert,”** Sharon said. Gilbert jumped slightly at the clarity of the sound, and the ripples swallowed the fainter voices of her two companions. **“Break will be fine… Xerx, don’t push yourself! Here, lean on my shoulder.”**

_**“Oh right, Gilbert is here,” Break’s snide voice was back. “Did you find Alice yet?”** _

“No,” Gilbert answered a little sheepishly. “Not yet.”

Sharon relayed the information.

_**“Then stop slacking and get back to work,”**_ Break sighed. _**“I’ll get Oz for you.”**_

**“ _We_ will, Break,”** Sharon heaved a sigh. **“Get used to it. Miss Echo, is the road clear?”**

The dark waters fell silent for two seconds, until Sharon’s voice rose once again:

**“Alright, let’s go. Gilbert, we’ll have to act very quietly from now on. Please don’t worry about us. You said it yourself: we can’t rescue Lord Oz without Miss Alice.”**

Gilbert nodded and resumed his pace. It was true. There was nothing Gilbert could do to help his colleagues from the Abyss. If he wanted to go back to their side, he had to find Alice, and fast.

But where could she be? It felt like he had been walking for hours, and still there was no sign of a Chain. The Abyss was nothing but a deserted marshland.

‘Could it be because I am a Baskerville?’ Gilbert wondered suddenly. ‘Are the Chains avoiding me?’

Gilbert couldn’t be sure. He kept scanning the darkness in search of hungry eyes, and straining his ears for a noise of any kind. But Gilbert was alone with the sound of his own steps and the melancholic melody. He almost wished the Chains would attack. Then he wouldn’t feel this draining mix of anticipation and pointlessness.

He thought he heard Break and Vincent’s voices, and almost stopped to check. Had they been spotted?

Gilbert was about to voice his worries to Sharon, but a sharp pain in his left hand stopped him. The man gripped his shaking hand and looked around him. He found himself in a field of overturned ten feet tall cubes, with rusting numbers on their faces. There was no Chain in sight.

Gilbert could still feel the pull from Raven’s efforts as the giant bird recreated the broken chains. The open watch at his wrist seemed to weigh a ton. Yet the sensation from earlier had been different. It was reminiscent of the times when B-Rabbit’s powers had been unleashed. Did something happen to Oz? Or…

“ _Oz!_ ”

The man turned round just in time to see Alice materialising atop the highest toy box. She looked changed, almost immaterial in her silk black dress and ribbons, but Gilbert would have recognized her shrill bossy voice anywhere. He would never have thought that he would be so happy to hear it.

Gilbert had heard anger and relief clash when she called Oz’s name. Both emotions vanished as soon as Alice saw the man:

“Raven....”

Her voice was trembling. From shock or anger, Gilbert couldn’t tell. She was too far for him to read her expression. Of course, he knew what to expect.

A lump formed in his throat, but Gilbert refused to look away. It was almost a relief to meet Alice’s accusing glare. The man had expected this anger from the moment he had shot Oz. Ever since, he had been waiting for a punishment that never came.

No one had a right to hurt Oz: it was the one thing Alice and he had always agreed on. Gilbert knew that she would never forgive him.

“Why…” Alice’s hands balled into tight fists at her sides. “No, don’t tell me. You remembered, didn’t you? Who Oz really is.”

Gilbert was taken aback. What did that have to do with anything?

“You found out that he was the real B-Rabbit, so you shot him,” Alice said bitterly. “Is that it?”

Gilbert could only stare at her in silence, dumbstruck. Lacie’s melody was fluttering between them tauntingly.

“No,” the man answered without thinking. “No, I… It wasn’t a choice I made.”

That was when it truly struck him. How instinctive it had been, to move his hand and pull the trigger. How the servant had heard the gunshot before he even had time to comprehend Glen’s order. How, ever since, Gilbert had been a stranger in his own body.

No… It had been the case long before that. Before his amnesia, before the Tragedy… He had had this alienating feeling almost as far as he could remember. When had it all begun?

His head throbbed. Gilbert looked down at his hands and realized they were shaking. His fingers closed around the vibrating metal of the pocket watch. The box swallowed the notes with a resounding click. Silence fell.

“I did…I do remember,” Gilbert said. His mouth felt strangely dry. “The truth is that I am a Baskerville. I was Glen’s servant back in Sablier. Ever since then… there was this voice in my head,” the man clawed at his skull. “It’s driving me mad. And now master… Oz is....”

Distorted memories of his master danced before his eyes. Oswald’s calm words, Oz’s laughing eyes, Leo’s pale hands pulling at his hair to chase the ghosts away. An ancient hooded hunchback with scrawny lips, spouting murderous commandments that took root in Gilbert’s head. A vow carved in flesh and blood between Chains and Baskervilles. _So that’s why Vincent never sank into the Abyss._ Raven’s warning. Possessed boys, century old voices haunting him....

_“Who poured these thoughts into you?”_ Break had asked.

Gilbert didn’t know. But if this voice and his left hand bound him to Glen’s will, then....

“Where is he?”

Gilbert raised his eyes from the cold golden watch to look up at Alice. She had taken a step forward on her box. She was going bare foot.

“Where is Oz?”

Her powerful voice vibrated in the confined air. It shook Gilbert out of his trance:

“He was taken prisoner. Master…Glen is going to send him to the lowest level of the Abyss.”

Alice flinched. Even from this distance, Gilbert could tell that she was shaking. She stomped her foot on the giant cube:

“Don’t! Glen… No, you can’t do that! Oz is _mine!_ I was the one who brought Oz to the real world! I should decide what to do with him! _You can’t take him away!”_

Gilbert’s eyes widened. It suddenly dawned on him. Alice wasn’t shaking from anger. She was scared. Scared for Oz. And what she had said…

“You remember,” Gilbert whispered.

“That’s right!” Alice gave a vigorous nod. The movement sent droplets of water flying around her face. “I remember everything. I was there, that day, when Oz nearly destroyed the world. Jack forced him to do it!” her voice was growing stronger with every word, until she was screaming: “He stole Oz from me and used his power… Oz couldn’t even fight back! He was crying, and Jack wouldn’t _listen…!_ ”

Her voice broke. Her slight shoulders were shaking so hard Gilbert was afraid they would dislocate. The surreal halo that surrounded her made Alice’s tears glow on her cheeks, their shine apparent even from this distance.

Gilbert was speechless, stuck between shock and an overwhelming sympathy that constricted his throat and kept his voice trapped. Even the man’s shadow shuddered at his feet. He had been there to witness Oz’s torture. Gilbert remembered the scene Alice described all too well.

“I won’t let him do it again!” the little girl cried, her eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of uncontrollable tears. “I won’t let _anyone_ use Oz again! I won’t forgive those who made him cry! Not even Glen, not even _you!_ Just…”

A hiccup cut through her screaming. She used her sleeves to wipe at her nose furiously.

“Just…give Oz back to me,” she said between sobs. “Don’t kill him, Raven.”

Gilbert almost jumped. She sounded _pleading._ Did Alice really think that…?

Of course she did, Gilbert thought with sudden revulsion. She had seen him shoot Oz. She also knew the reason why Glen had given that order. She was Alice Baskerville. As such, she knew that her uncle’s orders were absolute. And Glen Baskerville wanted Gilbert to kill Oz.

“I won’t,” Gilbert said firmly. “Never.”

Alice stilled, and her black dress fell in small drifts around her ankles. Gilbert took a step forward. Dark water rippled all around him. The man thought he heard a clatter in the distance, but he ignored it.

“Oz will be fine, I promise,” Gilbert pointed at the stilling water. “Sharon and the others went to rescue him.”

The man suddenly realized that the metallic sounds were coming from his shadow. He strained his ears to hear more from Sharon’s side, but something was covering her voice. Gilbert thought he heard Break shout, and heavy clanging in the distance.

**“Hurry, Lord Oz! We have to get away!”**

Hope flared in Gilbert’s heart. They had found Oz! They would protect him. Now, all he had to do…

“Then why are you here?”

Alice’s voice brought Gilbert back to reality. The man clenched his left hand resolutely and turned back towards her. Maybe there was a way out after all. Gilbert suspected he knew what was wrong with him, and how to protect Oz from now on. But first, there were some things he had to confirm.

“Oz sent me to get you,” he told Alice. “He said that, a hundred years ago, you took his powers and became the new B-Rabbit. Is that true? Do you remember anything like this?”

“Yeah,” Alice answered hesitantly, and raised a hand in front of her face. It was translucent. “But it looks like he got them back. And now Jack is using him again.” She snorted. It sounded like a sniffle. “You should have brought him here! That idiot rejected me, and now I can’t even go back…”

“I _will_ bring you back,” Gilbert said. “You’re the only one who can save Oz. So tell me: have you really lost all of his powers? If you went back to our world, could you take them back?”

Alice threw him a suspicious look:

“I can still feel some power. Just enough to move about.” She grinded her teeth. “And even then, I had to ask the other Alice to bring me here when I heard the music box. I can’t handle Oz’s powers without a proper body.”

Gilbert felt a renewed confidence. That was it.

“In that case,” he said, “make a contract with me.”

Alice’s eyes widened. For a second, Gilbert thought her body looked a more solid white against the darkness of the Abyss. That only strengthened his suspicion.

“What did you say?”

“If you still hold some power from the Abyss,” Gilbert told her, “then you are still a Chain. In order to go back to our world, all you need is a contractor. But it doesn’t have to be Oz, does it?”

The little girl fidgeted. She still looked wary.

“You said you were one of the Reapers,” she pointed an accusing finger at him. “Why would you help Oz now?”

The man hesitated. The memory of the gunshot was looming over them heavily, clouding Gilbert’s confidence. He took a deep breath:

“Raven told me once that the two of us were bound by my left hand. At the time, I didn’t realize what it meant. A hundred years ago, this contract I made was the first step before becoming the next Glen Baskerville. I vowed to serve him until the day I died.”

“But I can’t obey him anymore,” Gilbert told Alice. “Not if it means sacrificing everything he loves. He was already forced to send his own sister into the Abyss, yet he is still trying to maintain that law about Children of Misfortune, even though…”

Gilbert stopped himself mid-sentence. No. He wouldn’t mention the fact that Glen had also been ready to sacrifice his own niece. It was unsettling enough to see Alice this distraught; she definitely didn’t need to hear that on top of everything.

“It’s absurd,” Gilbert said instead. “I won’t let my master repeat his own mistakes. Even if it means betraying him.”

His voice turned bitter:

“I broke my vow long ago anyway. In the end, the one I want to protect is Oz. The reason I renewed my contract with Raven was to save him. And now I can’t even go back to him....”

“Even then… If I can’t be relied on… at the very least, I want to share Oz’s burden. If I was chosen as a host for Glen, then my body should be able to stand the power of five Chains. I am sure I can bear the power of B-Rabbit. If worst comes to worst, Raven can seal some of it away. This way, if B-Rabbit’s power is shared between us… Oz won’t have to handle this alone.”

Alice was peering down at him like a hawk, with her toes gripping the side of the giant cube. Her amethyst eyes stood out sharply against her surreally pale face. The man still couldn’t tell whether she was staring at him with reproach, fear or hope. Either way, he couldn’t blame her for distrusting him.

“Besides,” Gilbert’s voice grew softer. “I’ve come to realize that I misjudged you.” The man lowered his eyes. “I called you a parasite, when all this time you were protecting Oz. Long before I even knew him. Please forgive me.”

Gilbert drew his lips into a tight line. Once again, Break had been proven right. Overcome by his own jealousy and resentment, Gilbert had been blind to the truth. It was about time he set things right.

He heard Alice take a sharp intake of breath. When he looked up, she seemed slightly flushed. She shook herself, her long dark hair flying all around her and sending golden drops in every direction. After that, the little girl raised her chin, put both hands on her hips, and with a decisive nod, she said:

“Oz belongs to me. If you’re his, I guess that makes both of you my servants. This _might_ make up for what you did.”

Her words were still harsh, yet she sounded bolder. The little girl hopped from box to box until she landed on the one opposite Gilbert. She held out her hand and the man took it. He thought all had been said and done when, out of the blue, Alice stood on tiptoe to whack him on the head.

“ _What was that fo…_ ”

“For shooting Oz.” Alice punched him again. “And _that_ ’s for being an idiotic, useless seaweed-head.”

“I am not…!”

“Stop saying that you can’t be relied on, or I won’t,” Alice grabbed Gilbert’s hair and yanked, so they were nose to nose. “I already told you, didn’t I? I won’t let _anyone_ hurt Oz again, especially you. If you are useless enough to go crazy and try to shoot him again, I will use his powers to crush you. So you’d _better_ put up a good fight, because I’m going back to him, and you’re coming with me!”

Gilbert blinked, at a loss for words. Beyond the boasting authority that the Chain took whenever she talked, he could hear the distress in her voice, and see the worry in her eyes. In her own, strange way, Alice was seeking reassurance. That there was the slightest chance that she wouldn’t disappear, and that Oz could be saved. That she could protect Gilbert from himself.

The thought was so baffling Gilbert felt oddly flustered.

“You said it yourself,” Alice shouted into his face. The man cringed. “You can’t listen to Glen anymore. You’ll be my contractor, and that means you’ll only obey _me_. Swear it!”

Alice paused for breath and fixed him with an expectant glare. Gilbert’s ears were ringing, yet her words sounded so hopeful he couldn’t bring himself to get angry. In this moment, Alice was only a child trying to make her statements come true by yelling the words as loudly as she could. From up close, her embarrassed blush looked redder still, and Gilbert could feel her fingers shaking around his locks.

In the end, they were in the same boat.

He shook his head; the movement made him wince when his hair remained trapped within Alice’s tiny fists:

“I can’t do that.”

The little girl opened her mouth to protest, but Gilbert put a placating hand on her head, half to make her back away and let go, half to reassure her:

“That’s not how it works, stupid rabbit,” he elaborated, his voice soft. He called her names almost as an afterthought these days. “You’re a Chain, and I am a Baskerville. That makes us equals. Comrades. So I can’t serve you.”

The flush on her cheeks grew darker:

“I’m a Baskerville, too!”

Gilbert couldn’t help but chuckle at that:

“Then that is all the more true, isn’t it? Since we can’t be by Glen’s side anymore,” he added ruefully.

A flicker of grief crossed Alice’s features, and she went quiet. She looked to the side.

“You won’t go away,” she asked under her breath. “Right?”

Gilbert gave her a small smile:

“That’s the point of making a contract. Whatever comes at us, we’ll fight together.”

Alice seemed to ponder that.

“Comrades… I suppose that’s fine.” When she turned back to him, there was a grin on her face. “Alright, Raven. First we save Oz, then we come back for my sister.”

Sharon’s voice startled them both.

**“Gilbert!”** Gilbert’s shadow heaved. **“I can’t hold on much longer, Lord Oz is…!”**

Gilbert’s heart skipped a beat:

“Alice!”

A bright glow took over her body when he called her name. Alice swiped at the rusted number ingrained on her cube. Pearls of blood burst between her fingers when the metal cut her skin. Sharon shrieked. The floor vanished from under Gilbert’s feet before he could take Alice’s outstretched hand. The man was dragged down into the darkness.

He reached a helpless hand out to Alice. With her eyes set in a determined scowl, the Chain stuck her bloody fingers into her mouth and jumped after him. She snaked one arm around Gilbert’s neck and sucked the blood off her other hand. She locked lips with him right before Eques’ shadow swallowed his head.

Gilbert gulped out of reflex. Then gravity made a violent comeback. The man landed dizzy and scandalized next to a breathless Sharon. In the next second, he saw a crowned lion pounce. Eques burst out of their joined shadows and impaled the Chain on its flank.

“What a surprise,” a sarcastic voice came from behind the lion. “To think you’d be behind all this, Nightray boy… or whatever household you’re leeching off at present.”

A violent shockwave took over Gilbert before he could answer. The man rolled out of the way as the two Chains fought, one hand clenched over his heart. It felt like a fireball was about to burst out of his chest. The man took a sharp intake of breath when the energy spread like wildfire through his veins. By contrast, the draft felt freezing against his hair. His hat had flown away.

Gilbert struggled to keep his eyes open. Even his eyelids burnt. He glimpsed Charlotte Baskerville through the furnace. The woman made no effort to suppress her shivers of cold fury.

“So you made a new contract.” Her eyes were shooting daggers at him over her toothy grin. “Does it hurt? Don’t worry. I will free you from the pain _right now_.”

Her growling blended in the roar of her Chain. The lion pinned the black unicorn to the ground, only to leave it rearing at air and attack Gilbert. The man barely had time to unsheathe Elliot’s sword. The claws and the black metal clang together. Gilbert was thrown back from the force of impact.

In the blink of an eye, Sharon was standing between him and the feline Chain. A black wall rose all around her.

“Gilbert,” Sharon cried as Eques held the lion off with its horn. “I’m sorry, Lord Oz got away… He went outside. Go after him, I’ll hold her back!”

“What?” Gilbert staggered back on his feet. His heartbeat was deafening to his own ears. “Sharon, what happened…”

“Aw, but aren’t you worried about the Hatter and your little brother?” Charlotte snarled. “Master Glen and the others should be about done with them. Now move aside, I need to have a little chat with Jack…”

“They’re buying us time!” Sharon turned to Gilbert hastily. “Don’t listen to her! _Go!_ ”

Sharon took several steps back, breathing heavily. Safe in the shadow of her Chain, she held two fans before her in a defending position. With a last look at the fighting duo, Gilbert turned heels and fled.

“Master Glen trusted you!” Charlotte’s screeches made him flinch. “I’ll get you for this, _traitor!_ ”

The Baskerville’s cries and Eques’ whinnying pursued him as the man rushed towards the exit. He forced himself not to look back. His left hand was still clutching at his heart, where a contractor’s seal was carving its way into his skin. The other clenched the black blade tightly. There was no turning back. Gilbert had already made his choice.

Oz was right ahead. Whatever had happened to him, Gilbert would be by his side to face it. The man knocked the double doors open with his shoulder:

“ _Oz!_ ”

The boy was there. Surrounded by dewy grass, Oz stood shaking against the breaking dawn with his back to Gilbert. Oz was holding his hands before him, palms up, as if checking for raindrops. He gave no reaction when the man called his name.

“Why....”

Gilbert’s relieved smile froze on his lips. The voice was deep and hoarse. Completely at odds with Oz’s frail body. The man’s fist clenched around the sword hilt with barely suppressed rage.

“I can’t summon the scythe,” the shaking voice went on. “Why? Glen, what did you do _this time?_ ”

Suddenly the boy turned to face him. Gilbert felt a sick feeling sink into his stomach. The eyes were green and wide like those of a wounded predator. Haunted and mad.

“No,” the possessed boy whispered. “It was you, wasn’t it? Gilbert....”

Gilbert glowered at him. He could feel the power of B-Rabbit concentrating in his chest like a wild animal about to pounce. The pull in his left hand was getting fainter. Raven was almost done restoring the chains Jack had destroyed.

“You tricked us,” Gilbert growled back. “All of us. You have no right to use Oz like this. I won’t let you.”

“So you were the one who took his powers.”

Oz’s features relaxed, until his lips curled up into a lenient smile:

“Oh well, it was only a matter of time until Alice interfered again. I suppose I should thank you for bringing her back to me, Gilbert. I’d better settle this now.”

Gilbert jumped out of the way a fraction too late. A metal spike slashed the left side of his arm. Pointed chains materialized all around Oz like so many hydra heads. Jack raised his arms, and their pointed ends turned to face Gilbert.

“Alice!” the man shouted, holding his bleeding arm to his chest.

The fire in his chest swelled and exploded. A dozen more chains darted through the air to meet Jack’s. They knocked them out of the way with thunderous clanging. When Gilbert took a step back, he felt the presence of a massive Chain at his back.

“How nice of you to join us, Alice,” the possessed boy greeted her.

**“Jack…”** a deep growl came from behind Gilbert, making him feel a shiver of kinship; the ferocity of her hate was going right through his body. **“I am going to maim you _limb by limb!_ ”**

“Don’t!” Gilbert held out a hand in warning. “You can’t hurt Oz!”

**“Stay out of this, Raven. Oz rejected me. He’s going to pay for this!”**

“Gilbert has a point, you know,” Jack chuckled. “Besides, you were never B-Rabbit to begin with. You can’t blame Oz for taking back what is his.”

**“You shut up!”** Alice roared. **“I don’t care if he was the original B-Rabbit! Oz was always _mine_ , and I can do whatever I want with his powers! _Now give him back, Jack!_ ”**

“Don’t mind if I do,” Jack whispered. “Oz.”

No sooner had the name left his lips than a dark shape rose among the uncoiling chains. Gilbert could make out two lowered rabbit ears. With a pang to his chest, he realized the figure was hiding its face behind its hands.

“Oz…” Gilbert called softly.

The rabbit clenched his hands tighter in a vain attempt to shield himself from the world.

**“Don’t…”** his voice rumbled among the rattling chains. **“Don’t make me…”**

“Kill them.”

Oz gave a cry, and the chains soared. Alice charged.

“Hold him back!” Gilbert slashed at the hissing chains with Elliot’s sword. “Jack can’t stay in control for long. _Don’t hurt him!_ ”

But it was impossible to distinguish the two rabbits. Their contours were black and blurry, like twin shadows of the same entity merging as one. Their clash looked like a black mountain emerging from the fog.

Gilbert had to look away when Jack came at him with chains in his wake. Gilbert could only square up to them and back away. But his opponent followed, dancing before the black blade, unarmed and exposed. Gilbert cursed under his breath. He tried to parry and move out of the way.

The chains kept coming, darting from every direction. Hot pain flared in Gilbert’s limbs when he failed to bat them away for fear of hurting the boy. He could hear Oz’s desperate cries among the commotion.

**“Gil! Alice! _Run!_ I don’t want to kill you! _I don’t want to kill you!_ ”**

**“As if I’d let you do that,”** Alice growled.

She sent him tumbling to the floor with a smack. The earth quaked in protest. Gilbert and Jack were knocked off their feet. Bloody grass and an open sky span before the man’s eyes until the giant Chains jolted back into focus.

**“Gil, _please,_ get Alice out of here!”**

“I’m not leaving you behind, Oz,” Gilbert jumped to his feet, his eyes trained on Jack. “Never again!”

The possessed boy was staggering back to his feet, showing the first signs of fatigue. Gilbert was too lightheaded to feel any triumph. His legs were bleeding profusely. In his peripheral vision the rabbits were still fighting in a black chaos of claws and teeth. The world was turning fuzzier by the second.

“Don’t worry, Oz,” Gilbert willed his voice to remain steady. The blood in his left hand was pumping wildly. “Any second now....”

“This is quite draining,” Jack conceded between short puffs of breath. With a flick of his wrist, the possessed boy gathered the discarded chains behind him and advanced towards Gilbert. “You look pretty worn out yourself. However, unlike you, Gilbert, I have only one Chain to keep under control.”

Gilbert took slow steps back, his sword at the ready. Jack was ten meters away. Soon, it would be over soon....

A sudden hissing sound made the man dive in alarm. Four spikes sunk into the ground Gilbert had been standing on milliseconds ago. Jack had struck from the back.

“I wonder,” the ghost said as he came to meet him head-on, “which of us will collapse first?”

Gilbert pushed the boy away, and a spike sank into his left shoulder. The man rolled out of the way on his uninjured shoulder with the sound of hissing chains close to his ears. When his momentum sent him back to his feet, Gilbert felt a final jolt in his left hand. Then he heard the caw.

Raven. At last.

Jack looked up at the sky with sudden trepidation. Gilbert rushed at him.

The possessed boy tried to get away and hide behind a wall of snaking chains. Gilbert had to watch his step against the tremors the giant rabbits were causing in their scuffle. He slashed wildly at the chains. Gashes were opening all over Gilbert’s body as he ran, but he barely felt them. High above, Raven was swooping down on them.

Three feet. Gilbert swiped two chains out of his way, and reached with his left hand. His face even, Jack pointed straight at his heart. Without missing a beat, Gilbert slammed his bare hand against the possessed boy’s forehead. A violent earthquake broke behind the man with heavy clanging. Out of the corner of his eye, Gilbert saw giant black talons holding a metal coil to the ground. Raven had landed right on the chain about to impale its contractor.

The sword fell to Gilbert’s side. The man hung on to the struggling boy, his right hand digging into a frail shoulder. Gilbert’s left hand glowed a bright blue against Oz’s forehead. The servant didn’t hold back this time, and let all the power he held as a Baskerville seep through the seal. The small body went limp in his arms. The two rabbits and crow vanished in a ray of morning light.

“Oz,” Gilbert panted, holding on to the boy’s forehead and shoulder like his life depended on it. “Oz, can you hear me?”

Blurry green eyes blinked madly up at him. Oz’s fair features were distorted in a grimace of pain. A drop of blood was dripping from the side of his bottom lip.

“…Why?” he croaked. “Why did you come back? You… _I almost killed you!_ ”

In spite of his wounds and racing heart, Gilbert couldn’t help but give a heavy sigh of relief. The voice was cracked and hoarse, but the man recognized it as Oz’s. Regardless, he forced himself not to let go. Gilbert had learnt of Jack’s acting skills the hard way. Oz would never forgive his servant if he let his guard down too soon.

“I had to, Oz,” Gilbert said nonetheless. He knew Oz would hear him. “I need to be by your side.”

“ _Are you out of your mind?_ ” the boy grabbed Gilbert’s mantle with both hands. “You saw what I did! You know what I am! Why would you want anything to do with me?”

“I am your servant…”

“No, you’re not!”

Oz was striving like the very devil to free himself. Gilbert grabbed both his wrists with his right hand to hold him still. He didn’t feel confident enough to let go of the boy’s forehead just yet.

Oz panted heavily. He wouldn’t stop struggling, and it felt like each word was hurting him, grating on his tongue like salt into a wound:

“You’re Glen’s servant. Go back to him. Alice, too. She… She’s his niece, right? You belong with him. Both of you. Forget about me. I’m just… I’m just a _doll!_ ”

“I remember,” Gilbert told him gently.

This gave Oz pause. His hands felt cold even through the man’s glove. Gilbert held them close to his heart:

“You and Alice were always together, back in Sablier. Once, she tore one of your sleeves and asked Master Glen to sew it back together. I volunteered to do it in his stead,” the man chuckled self-mockingly. “I was so vexed. And I think that’s all the interaction we had back then.”

Oz refused to look at him.

“But that’s all in the past,” Gilbert told the crown of golden hair. “My master is dead, and there’s nothing I can do about it. In this time, you were the one who gave me a place to belong. I don’t want to give that up.”

A brief silence settled. Oz broke it in a small voice:

“That was all fake. Just a part of Jack’s plan. He let me borrow his body, only to get it back and destroy everything. This is what I was _created_ for. I can’t help anyone. Least of all you.”

“You did,” Gilbert protested. “You saved me!”

“This is just what you want to believe.”

“This is what I _know,_ ” Gilbert said stubbornly. “Those years we spent together were the happiest of my life. They were real. Don’t you _dare_ tell me they weren’t.”

“But _I_ am not.”

“What difference does _that_ make?”

Gilbert was getting confused and angry. Idly, the man could feel Alice’s own frustration at the back of his mind. This argument was only hurting Oz. Why couldn’t he see that it was pointless?

“It makes _all_ the difference, you idiot!” Oz shouted. “I can’t even control myself! Do you have any idea how many people died because of me? I caused the Tragedy of Sablier. I almost destroyed the world, _twice._ What’s stopping me from doing it again? I’m better off…”

“Then make a contract with me!”

Oz jerked his head up and glared at Gilbert with fierce watery eyes. The man couldn’t help but flinch. Yet he refused to back down:

“I already made a pact with Alice, and Jack lost some of your powers because of it,” he insisted. “If I made a pact with you, we might break his influence completely…”

“Don’t even think about it,” Oz interjected. “I won’t turn you into an illegal contractor!”

“It wouldn’t be an illegal contract,” Gilbert said in the same breath. “As messengers from the Abyss, the Baskervilles are meant to make contracts with Chains by drinking their blood. That’s how I contracted Alice.”

Gilbert shuddered slightly at the reminder. The less said about exactly _how_ that had transpired, the better. He put the thought to the far back of his mind.

“I do have a seal,” he went on, “but it won’t drag me into the Abyss.”

Among the fear and grief, he saw a glint of relief flash across Oz’s eyes. Slight as it was, the shift lifted Gilbert’s spirits. He looked at Oz with daring hope:

“If we made a pact… maybe you could be freed of _your_ seal.”

Oz hesitated. For a second, his eyes grew distant, like he had just realized something. The boy shook his head to rid it of the thought. The anger was gone, but he still looked upset and scared.

“I can’t,” Oz said haltingly. “Alice is safe with you now. I don’t want to make the two of you take that risk. Not after everything I put you through. Alice died, and you… I hurt you so many times… And you only stayed with me because you thought I could replace your master....”

Gilbert’s chest constricted at that. His grip tightened around Oz’s slight wrists. He could feel a mad pulse.

“You don’t understand,” Gilbert said, rueful yet firm. “We can’t go back. Alice and I are traitors to the Baskervilles. _Not_ because of you,” he added immediately. “But because Glen was ready to sacrifice anyone who threatened the stability of the Abyss. Even…”

Here again, Gilbert barely stopped himself in time. He had lost so much blood he had trouble thinking straight. But he was positive Alice could still hear them.

“Even his own family,” he said in a low, bitter voice.

Oz’s eyes widened in horror. He understood. Gilbert knew he would.

The boy’s body went slack against his. Gilbert almost lost his balance when he had to steady Oz with his left hand. The boy’s trembling had almost turned into spasms. His teeth were chattering:

“But…you won’t let him. You will protect her. Right?”

“I will,” Gilbert held him closer. “But only if you come with us. Alice and I decided this together. We are not going anywhere without you. I am not going anywhere without you.”

Oz’s conflicted gaze turned pleading:

“Please, Gil… You’ve accomplished so much. I’m sure you don’t need me anymore,” his voice was so faint Gilbert could barely hear it. “I’m… glad we met. I wish we could have stayed together. I want to believe in your promise, I really do, but more than that… Gil, I… want you to be free.”

Gilbert shook his head. He couldn’t take this anymore.

“ _Don’t you get it?_ ” He was clenching Oz’s wrists so tightly they might bruise. “After I lost my memories, all these years, you were the only one who kept me sane. That will never change! It’s true that you saved me by replacing my master, but before I knew it… I started to use that as an excuse. I made it my duty to protect you, to stay by your side… _anything_ to stay by your side. I always wished I was destined to serve you.”

The boy’s eyes went saucer wide. Gilbert couldn’t stop:

“Even after I shot you… I could only think of the way to save you. Even if you’re not my master, I can only be free by your side!”

Oz’s cheeks were flushed a deep red from the fight and the fear, his eyes a surreal bright green under his golden bangs. He was still panting, but it looked like he had forgotten why. Slowly, a smile bloomed on his juvenile face. Gilbert was rendered speechless.

“You idiot,” Oz’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. “Do you even hear yourself talk? Geez....”

The boy sighed through his nose. He shivered slightly in the morning breeze, and his features seemed to waver before settling into an expression of resolve; but the smile never left. Oz’s wrists gave a gentle prod and, because Gilbert knew this smile very well, because he knew Jack could never pull it off in a million years, he let them go.

“You have it all backwards,” Oz told him. “You were the one who kept me sane. Ever since Father rejected me. If I’m a Chain, you’re the only contractor I want.”

Oz’s fingers were trembling when he cradled Gilbert’s face, like he was still afraid to touch. The servant didn’t move. He let the boy tuck stray black locks behind his ear experimentally. Featherlike touches lingered on his cheekbones, and long fingers came to rest at the nape of his neck. Small hands and emerald eyes were pulling him in.

Gilbert didn’t understand what was going on until Oz started nipping at his bottom lip.

The kiss didn’t last long. No more than the time Oz needed to sneak his bleeding tongue in and wrap it around Gilbert’s, so the man could taste it before he swallowed. The boy only lingered for a second, to savour the wet warmth and the intoxicating scent of tobacco. But by the time Oz pulled away, Gilbert was misty-eyed and breathless.

“ _Oz…_ ”

“Yes, silly,” Oz played with the soft locks framing his servant’s face. The strong scent of cigarette smoke clung to the wavy hair. It drifted to Oz like a warm welcome as his fingers combed the knots away. “I love you.”

Gilbert grabbed his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you _tell me?_ ”

“I didn’t want to,” Oz chuckled. “I didn’t want anything to change between us. I loved to see you doubt. It was so funny and cute… And this way, I could woo girls whenever I wanted. That always drove you _crazy._ ”

The boy hung his head too late. Gilbert had seen the tears.

“I was cruel. Gil, I....”

The air got knocked out of his lungs. Gilbert was hugging him so tightly Oz could speak no more. Or it might have been the lump in his throat.

“You damn…” Gilbert sobbed, and somehow it sounded like laughter, like the man couldn’t have been sadder or happier, “impish, reckless, stubborn, tyrannical little _brat!_ ”

He could hear Oz’s trembling smile in his teasing voice: “You still love me.”

“I _always_ loved you! Since the day we met,” Gilbert said. He was pretty sure Oz hadn’t loved him this long. And if he had, his young master was even more sadistic than Gilbert had ever suspected. “And I will _always_ love you!”

“I know.”

Gilbert froze. Oz’s voice was growing faint. The servant’s left hand hurt. Something hot was flooding his throat and chest. It set his blood on fire. Looking down through a hazy fog, the man met the boy’s resigned gaze.

“ _Oz…!_ ”

“Don’t worry,” the boy smiled, ephemeral and mischievous. Unreachable. “I’ll be right here.”

Oz’s eyelids drooped. A shiver ran down Gilbert’s spine. Waves upon waves of power crashed into his being, each rush stronger than the last. They shook his whole frame until the man broke into uncontrollable spasms. He could only cling to the frail shoulders of his young master to keep steady.

The black rabbits were merging once again. Gilbert felt Raven’s struggles as the bird fought the overwhelming presence of the foreign twin Chains. For what felt like an eternity, the boy was his only anchor in a storm of destructive power.

Then the seal was back in place. Emerald green eyes turned stone cold.

“That was quite impressive, Gilbert,” the deep voice slurred out of Oz’s lips like an exotic snake. “And a huge mistake on your part.”

Rage shook Gilbert out of the aftershock.

“ _Jack._ ”

The possessed boy’s smile was humourless:

“Why are you so surprised? You were the one who got Oz out of this body to join Alice. Naturally, that only leaves me in control.”

“Get out,” Gilbert seethed. “I won’t let you hurt Oz ever again.”

“I can’t get out,” Jack chuckled. “This is my body, after all.”

“That’s not true,” Gilbert said. He sank his fingers into the boy’s shoulders, and hoped Jack wouldn’t notice that he could barely stand. “Oz was born and grew up in this era. You are nothing but a ghost hijacking his body.”

Jack shook his head:

“This body is the one I was born and grew up in, until I was forsaken by the power of the Abyss. I lent it to Oz long enough for him to collect the fragments of my soul. Now that you made a contract with him and Alice, the three of us are bound to B-Rabbit.”

“Liar…”

“The seal is still on my chest,” Jack put a hand to his host’s heart. “And when the clock strikes twelve, the four of us will be dragged into the Abyss.”

“ _Liar!_ ”

Unmindful of Gilbert’s iron grip, Jack unbuttoned Oz’s shirt. Horror-struck, Gilbert got a glimpse of the black mark. The seal was a quarter to completion.

“It is the logical conclusion of your foolish actions,” Jack said neutrally. “Then again, logic never was your strong point, was it, Gilbert? You only ever followed your feelings. This is why you can’t harm me. Not when I look like this.”

Gilbert couldn’t answer. Jack smiled, glassy-eyed:

“Of course, there is a way out of this: you could still reject Oz and be freed of his influence. That would also get rid of me. Since the needle has moved this far, it’s too late to save this body.”

A pause. Gilbert felt nauseous. His vision swam, and the black needle seemed to tilt ever closer to its starting point. Still his tongue remained frozen in his mouth.

“You won’t? Come now. There is nothing to regret. Try as you might, Oz was always beyond saving. You heard him: he would rather let you live free of him.”

There was no answer but the chirping of morning birds and a distant clatter from the manor. Jack trapped Gilbert’s forearm in a death grip.

“ _Just do it,_ ” the ghost hissed. Panic gave a sharp edge to his voice. “You won’t be apart for long. I’ll just take the world with me, and then you can join Oz in the Abyss. _Give my Chain back, Gilbert._ ”

“Stop pestering my servant, will you, Jack?”

Jack raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. His smile turned grim:

“Oz. I see you’ve learnt from the times I took over your body.”

Gilbert’s face answered with a smile of its own, weighted by irony. The two contractors were close. When Gilbert’s host looked into Jack’s eyes, he could see his own red irises reflected there.

The colour didn’t suit Gilbert at all, Oz decided, and neither did his boyish voice. But he would make do.

“Not exactly,” Oz answered. “Gil is exhausted. That idiot was about to lose consciousness. I promised that I would be there to support him if he ever fell. It’s as simple as that.”

“You seem to be in a better mood,” Jack said lightly. His long fingers loosened their grip and traced the contours of Gilbert’s wrist. “I take it Gilbert’s body is to your liking, then?”

Oz rolled his eyes and let go of his former body’s shoulders. Good thing Gilbert was out cold, or his poor servant would have died of embarrassment from the innuendo.

“Actually, Gil is right.” Oz crossed Gilbert’s arms and pointed one finger at Jack. The man’s features set into the scowl that Gilbert usually directed at Alice when he scolded her. “I have used this body for fifteen years now, and I’m rather fond of it. I would like to have it back.”

Jack shook his head sadly:

“You didn’t listen to anything I said.”

“I did.”

“Yet you keep on burdening Gilbert and Alice with your existence? This is rather selfish of you.”

“It is,” Oz admitted. Idly, he felt Gilbert’s self-depreciating smile creep back on the man’s lips. “I was hoping that Gilbert’s plan would work… He must be rubbing off on me.”

Jack smiled indulgently. He put a hand on Gilbert’s arm:

“You can still set them free.”

But Oz merely shook his head:

“I can’t. They won’t let me.”

And in spite of the bitter resignation he felt, Oz couldn’t help but feel a twisted pride in that fact. He hated himself a little more for it. But he could still feel the bite of Alice’s anger at the back of his mind, urging him to go on, and Gilbert’s comforting presence, steady even in sleep.

Oz had thought he had accepted his fate. But in the end, he just couldn’t let them go.

“They’ve gone so far to protect me,” he said softly. “The least I can do is to try and stay alive.”

Thin pale fingers closed around Gilbert’s cravat. There was a mad glint dancing in Jack’s eyes. Oz couldn’t help but shudder a little. Even with their inversed height difference, the ghost’s mere presence was enough to put him on edge.

“You don’t understand, Oz. You don’t have a choice,” Jack’s fist clenched into a knuckle-white grip. “Either you break this second contract right now, or we all sink into the Abyss. All for _nothing._ ”

“You are the one who doesn’t understand,” Oz said, grateful for his own practiced detachment and how steady his voice came out. “I am not threatening you, and I am not asking for a favour either. This is my right as your Chain. You gave me a human body in exchange of a wish. That’s how a contract works. It can’t be broken until I fulfil my part of the bargain.”

A glimmer of interest shone in Jack’s eyes at that. He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully:

“Something tells me you aren’t going to break the chains again that easily.”

Gilbert’s eyes glowed an angry red when Oz frowned at him:

“That,” he said, his words harsh from raw memories, “isn’t your wish.”

“Of course you would know all about it,” the ghost said.

Oz ignored the sarcasm:

“I only realized just now. Something was bugging me about your memories. I don’t remember contracting Lacie. Yet in that winter when she met you, she used B-Rabbit’s powers to save you, even though I was only a plush rabbit at the time. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

All traces of ill humour had vanished from Jack’s face as soon as he had uttered Lacie’s name. Oz felt a bitter lump form in his throat. He had been mulling these memories over and over during his imprisonment, unable to think of anything but. After his fight with Gilbert, things were finally clicking into place. Why Jack had been rejected by the Abyss, the fact that Alice could take Oz’s appearance, the power that they shared... the very nature of B-Rabbit’s power. Who Lacie’s Chain had been.

Oz didn’t like where this was leading him. But it was too late to turn back.

“I can grant your wish, Jack. I will bring you to Lacie.”

Jack’s eyes were open wide, so enraptured by Oz’s words that it felt like the ghost was staring straight into his soul. Calculating, looking for any sign of deceit. Oz held his gaze steadily.

“What do you mean?”

An ear-piercing roar cut through the question. The two contractors looked up at the sky in alarm. The Jabberwocky was soaring through the morning sky, blocking up the sun with its giant wings. Oz raised Gilbert’s arms over his head out of reflex.

The dragon almost knocked the two contractors over as it flew past them. Oz barely had the time to glimpse the growing fireball in its mouth. The giant Chain came to hover before the broken windows of Pandora Headquarters, drew back its long neck…

“Break!” panic surged through Oz like a waterfall. “Sharon!”

The Jabberwocky fired. The roaring of Chains could be heard from where they stood.

“Little Echo! _No!_ ”

Oz made a run for the manor, and the sharp pain in Gilbert’s limbs almost made him collapse on the spot. Even with the Baskerville’s healing ability, his wounds were still deep. Oz felt nausea overcome him as he struggled not to trip, determined to get to them before it was too late. Jack took him by the wrist before he could take another step.

“What,” the ghost repeated, unmindful of the dragon ten feet above their heads, “do you _mean?_ ”

“Let go!” Oz tugged on Jack’s hand, but he was too weakened to free himself. “We have to help them!”

“ _Answer me,_ ” Jack said dangerously.

So Oz told him, in two rushed sentences.

Jack’s face lit up with such raw, desperate hope that Oz thought he might be sick. The Chain went on, past caring:

“We need a Child of Misfortune in order to reach her. We have to go help Break and Vincent!”

Jack had already let go of him. With a little rattling noise, he bent over and retrieved Elliot’s sword from the humid ground.

“Very well, Oz. I’ll help you out,” he ran alongside him with sword in hand, a merry smile on his too young face. “And thank you. I could never have wished for a better Chain.”

The offhanded insult, the gaping wounds all over Gilbert’s body, _my fault, all my fault,_ the sickening sight of Jack in his former body holding Elliot’s sword, the smell of burning wood and metal above and the mighty roars of the Jabberwocky, Oz let it all drown in the adrenaline rush as he looked up at the flames and called to Alice. In the next second, the giant rabbit had taken hold of them both, and they were jumping into the chaos of the upper floor.

**“You had _better_ know what you’re doing, Oz,”** the rabbit growled mid-air.

Oz had no time to answer as he was dropped to the floor alongside Jack, who winced. Oz couldn’t help but glance sideways at the mark peering from the slightly open shirt of his former body. The needle had just moved to ten. _We’re running out of time._

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a feline Chain barged into his line of sight. Before he knew it, the scythe was in his hands and Oz was slicing at the beast. With a yowl, the lion vanished into a rain of dust. Charlotte Baskerville burst out of the cloud, knife in hand, her eyes a fiery red:

“ _Found you,_ traitor,” she grinned and aimed for Gilbert’s heart, only to be blocked by Jack.

“Leave them out of this, Lottie,” the ghost said, his voice even as he dodged and countered Charlotte’s furious attempts to stab him. “I believe I’m the one you’re after.”

“Fair point, Jack,” she said between swipes. Her crooked smirk was turning more demented with every strike. “Took you long enough to come out.”

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” the ghost said forlornly. “After it took so long to gain your trust and Glen’s.”

An enraged snarl broke through the clanging. Charlotte’s voice got higher pitched until it threatened to break:

“I should have killed you first back in Sablier, you _bastard!_ ”

Jack laughed it off: “Call a spade a spade.”

Oz couldn’t keep track of their fight. Up into the sky, Alice was holding off the Jabberwocky with her spiked chains and mighty fists, jumping from window to window to avoid the blasts. Suddenly, when she hopped back into the open, Oz glimpsed a white figure in her fist.

“Break!” he exclaimed with equal amounts of fear and hope.

Next thing he knew, something was pushing at his back and there was a gunshot. When Oz turned round, he found Vincent at his back, smoking gun in hand. A red-clad figure dropped to the ground.

“Take better care of my brother’s body,” the man snapped at him and fired another shot. He was wearing Gilbert’s hat, Oz realized bemusedly.

“W-Why aren’t you with Break?” Oz asked before he could stop himself, his scythe slicing through incoming Chains as if it had a mind of its own.

“I dumped him to look for Gil, of course,” Vincent said. He straightened the hat on his unruly hair swiftly. “The Hatter seemed to be faring well enough on his own. I met Lady Sharon on my way here. She was injured, so I left Echo to tend to her. Good thing Lottie was in a hurry.”

It seemed he was about to say more, but he suddenly clapped his mouth shut and pulled Oz by the wrist. In the next second, the whole room shook and sent everyone tumbling to the floor in a cacophony of growls and crumbling debris. Through the stars and white dust invading his vision, Oz saw the huge grotesque head of the bleeding Jabberwocky gasp for air. Alice had its neck pinned to the ground.

“Alice, Jack, let’s get out of here!” Oz ran around the dragon’s head to get to Alice and the man she held in her hand. “We need to get to Sharon and Little Echo!”

“She left Eques in my shadow,” Vincent added belatedly as he moved backwards towards the giant Chains and kept firing meticulous shots. “This should take no time at all.”

A bullet got Lottie in the head. Jack took the opportunity to run up to them. Oz got another fleeting look at his chest and saw that the needle was still moving. The ground seemed to waver beneath his feet. It felt like it would give in any second now, ready to swallow him whole, back into the darkness he had come from.

‘Gil,’ Oz thought desperately, his heart hammering in his servant’s chest. ‘Wake up. You have to wake up....’

Jack and he reached Break at the same time, followed shortly by Vincent. A black wall was already rising all around them. But Alice was still in rabbit form, the clock was ticking and the scythe wouldn’t go away, hitching to slice through the surrounding golden chains, Oz had no idea how to stop it…

‘I need you to activate the seal,’ Oz urged Gilbert’s slumbering spirit at the back of his mind. ‘Please, please, wake up…!’

He could feel his contractor stirring at his call, willing exhaustion away. Oz clung to this bit of consciousness, kept shouting at Gilbert over the bridge of their contract, when a wave of darkness rose from Eques’ shadow and swept the group along. Alice let go of the Jabberwocky at the last minute. The last thing they heard was Lottie’s voice, screaming at the other contractors to rummage through the ground floor and seal off all the exits.

They landed in a mass of limbs, metal and black fur. Oz had no idea which body was his anymore. He was only dimly aware of Gilbert’s presence close by, just shy of reach.

“Miss Sharon,” Break’s breathless voice cut through the thick silence. “Are you alright?”

**“Get off my face, you damn clown,”** Alice growled close to Oz’s ear.

Looking up, Oz glimpsed a mop of blonde hair that might have been Jack’s or Vincent’s. Over that, he saw Sharon rush over to Break with one arm wrapped over her stomach. Oz caught a glimpse of torn silk and bloody bandages on her fair skin. Everything looked and sounded fuzzy. Oz felt like he might throw up.

“Gil…” he muttered around a coated tongue.

There was a blur of white and a tug at his wrist. Oz was pulled to his feet. He came face to face with a mask of grey. He blinked. Echo’s face cleared before him.

They remained frozen on unsteady legs and stared at each other in silence. Her hair was covered in dust and debris, her cheeks powdered with chalk, her clear eyes huge with worry. Oz couldn’t recall a time when he had seen her so open. He wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t seem to find his voice. The scythe was still in his hand.

He heard a coughing fit behind him, violent enough to break the spell and make him turn round.

“I will be fine,” Break said raggedly. “I think our main concern should be: what do we do with him?”

The sight made Oz wobble harder on his feet. Jack had been surrounded. Break’s sword was at his throat and Vincent’s gun at his temple. Alice and Eques were lurking in the shadows behind the ghost. Oz could feel the rabbit’s growling all the way to his gut. The weapon in his hand felt heavier still. Dimly, he realized that Echo had stepped forward to stand between him and Jack, knife in hand.

Jack was standing among his enemies in the half-destroyed corridor with an amiable smile on his face. White powder was falling from the roof on his hair like snow. The ghost had one hand clenched loosely around the hilt of Elliot’s sword, the other to his half-exposed chest. The clock read eleven.

“Don’t kill him,” Oz blurted out.

Vincent’s finger only curled tighter around the trigger. His expression was set in rigid anger and grief, the very picture of betrayal. Oz didn’t dare move a muscle lest the man shoot on impulse. There was nothing but contempt in Break’s eye as he stared Jack down, his stance unwavering in spite of the trail of blood at the corner of his mouth. Sharon kept close to him.

“We don’t have a choice, Lord Oz,” she said without tearing her eyes away from their captive. “If we don’t finish him now, he will be cast into the Abyss.”

“That’s the plan,” Jack said cheerfully. “The one Oz came up with, that is. We are going to meet the Will of the Abyss.”

Break narrowed his eye at that. Jack’s polite gaze drifted from his to Vincent’s without wavering:

“We would appreciate it if one of you two gentlemen could lend us his help.”

There was an ominous click.

“Don’t do it, Vincent,” Jack said gently. “Gilbert wouldn’t want this.”

Vincent drew in a sharp breath, seemed to hold back the urge to scream. His hand was shaking madly around the gun. Break’s expression turned to one of intense disgust.

“Oz,” he asked in a low voice. “Do you intend to change the past?”

“No,” Oz answered in a rush. “I found a time paradox in Jack’s memories. I think it might be part of what caused the distortion of the Abyss. The Will of the Abyss needs my power to fix it, but only people born with red eyes can meet her. I need your help to reach her.”

**“And _I_ need to get my sister out of the Abyss,”** Alice interjected.

This, more than anything, seemed to capture Break’s interest. Yet Oz’s borrowed eyes kept darting back to the seal on Jack’s chest and the slow, relentless progression of the needle. He thought he could hear the seconds ticking away, pulsing at his temple like blood, Gil, _Gil, please wake up!_

“There’s no time. I can’t get my powers under control,” Oz stammered. He was clutching at Gilbert’s bloody chest without meaning to. Was his heart even still beating? Was it the clock? “I can’t get through to Gil… At this rate, we will be stuck like this forever… We will…”

“I’ll handle this,” Break sheathed his sword. “Time to end the masquerade. Would you give me a hand, milady?”

Sharon had already kneeled down and started drawing a pentacle with a piece of chalk. Break completed the drawing while Vincent held Jack at gunpoint. Sharon motioned for Oz, Jack and the giant rabbit to stand together on the pentacle. Once they were all gathered, Break slammed his swordstick in the centre.

There was a flash, a jolt, a world in black and white turned on its axis in a burst of pain. Oz was left panting on the floor. His body felt heavy and warm, almost feverishly so. It felt so strange, yet so disturbingly familiar, Oz wanted out of his skin.

“Well,” Break’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “I think that settles it.”

“What… _Oz!_ ”

Hearing Gilbert’s voice at last prompted Oz to open his eyes. Here they were, all three beings that shared his powers, all pinned to the floor by the bluish light of the restraining pentacle. Jack down on his knees and breathing heavily, eyes trained on the broken clock on his chest in anticipation. Alice in her human body, clad in the spare of red clothes and white ribbons she had gotten from her bond with B-Rabbit, who struggled to sit up while glaring daggers at Break and Jack in turn.

And Gilbert, back in his own body, his bloody clothes clinging to his skin, his pale face covered in sweat as he stared at Oz from his position on the ground. He looked small and scared; it felt like they had jumped back in time. Back at the coming of age ceremony, when everything had gone mad; back in Sablier, a helpless little boy bleeding to death at Oz’s feet....

Oz closed his eyes tight.

**“The seal…”** was all he could manage, in a low growl that he refused to acknowledge as his own voice.

With a sigh, Break slammed his swordstick a second time. There was a patter of feet when the human captives stood as one. Oz didn’t even try to get up from his slumped position on the floor. He felt too big as it was. His long ears twitched as he waited with batted breath.

“Oz, it’s not working!” he heard Gilbert’s panicked voice. “The needle has moved too far! _Oz!_ ”

The voice sounded much closer. Reluctantly, Oz opened his eyes to meet Gilbert’s terrified golden ones.

**“Then we don’t have much time left,”** Oz said in a low voice. **“I’m so sorry, Gil… I have to meet the Will of the Abyss and ask for her help.”**

The man was shaking hard. His eyes were filling up with tears. Gilbert held it all in with a shuddering breath:

“I’ll go with you.”

He meant it as reassurance, but Gilbert could as well have hit him, it hurt so badly. Oz silently and vehemently cursed himself for all the times he had felt accomplished when Gilbert had sworn to always be by his side. They didn’t even have a choice in the matter anymore.

“Will you come back?”

The quiet inquiry startled Oz out of his gloomy thoughts. Those were the first words Echo had spoken since they had arrived. She was looking up at him with the same concern she had shown while Oz was possessing Gilbert.

**“I will,”** he answered before thinking.

He regretted it almost immediately. His ears drooped uneasily. They both knew what had happened the last time Oz had made this kind of promise: Philippe’s father had been killed and the child had become an illegal contractor. A hint of wetness appeared in Echo’s clear eyes. All the same, she nodded and pulled a pistol from under her wide sleeve, which she handed to Gilbert.

“Master Vincent used most of the bullets,” she warned him. Her voice had recovered its deadpan tone.

“What about you?” Gilbert asked her. His voice was raspy from repressed tears. “What are you going to do about Master Glen?”

“I’ll help Lady Sharon escape as Master Vincent ordered me to,” she said neutrally.

Oz peered at Vincent warily. The man had opened his mouth like he was about to protest. In the end, he just shook his head with an irritated scowl. Gilbert gripped his pistol tightly as he looked from his brother to Echo with growing anguish:

“I’m sorry. I dragged you both into this... I’m so sorry....”

Oz wanted to scold him, tell Gilbert that it was _his_ fault, never his servant’s, and why did he always have to blame himself… but something in Echo’s even stare stopped him. There was some hesitation there, like there was something she was dying to say but couldn’t quite find the words.

“It’s alright,” she said after a pause. “Noise is loyal to Master Vincent, and I…”

She glanced Oz’s way, and words seemed to fail her once more. She inclined her head.

“I’ll handle things here,” she said quietly. “Just go.”

Oz stared at her in bemused wonder. He wasn’t sure if it was from the instinctive protectiveness he felt around young girls ever since he had been given sentience, from the time Echo and he had spent together on St Brigitte’s Day – _did it make a difference after all? Did I really help her?_ – or the incongruity of her being concerned about someone like him, but the Chain felt a surge of affection warm his heart.

**“Little Echo…”**

“ _Just Echo!_ ” she snapped, and her whole body shook with her cry of protest.

**“Thank you.”**

Echo looked up with a jolt. A bright blush was peering from the cracks in her mask of chalk, and her lips were drawn in a tight line. She turned away in the same swift motion.

“This is all well and good,” Break’s voice cut in. “But you are still short a red-eyed jinx, am I right? Count me in.”

Yet another couching fit swallowed his last sentence, and the man almost fell to his knees before Sharon caught him.

“Break, you can’t be serious…!”

“Don’t try to stop me, Gilbert,” Break cut the servant off. “This is a purpose I intend to fulfil. I swore to grant her wish.”

Oz’s ears perked up at that. Her? Did he mean the Will of the Abyss? The Chain peered at Gilbert, but his servant looked just as confused as Oz was. Sharon, on the other hand, showed no hint of surprise.

“You can’t go in your state, Break,” she told him softly, her face grave. Oz could tell that it cost her to turn Break away from his goal, when all this time she had been doing everything in her power to help him. Yet when she turned to them, there was nothing but determination in her eyes.

“She told Break that she didn’t want to be the Will of the Abyss anymore,” Sharon told them.

Oz straightened in spite of himself. He stilled when the tip of his ears brushed against the crumbling roof. The Chain knew dangerously little about the Will of the Abyss after the Tragedy had driven her mad, but if what Sharon said was true, it might play to their advantage.

“Of course she doesn’t,” Alice growled exasperatedly. “That’s why I’m going to get her. And Raven too,” she added, turning to Gilbert, which prompted a startled “what” from him: “We had a deal, remember? First we settle accounts with Jack and save Oz, then we go back for my sister.”

It seemed to take several seconds for Gilbert to remember what she was referring to, but his eyes lit up at last, and he nodded. The man turned to Break with purpose:

“You don’t have to come, Break,” he told him. “I’ll go as your left eye.”

Break twitched.

“What the hell are you…”

“You saved Oz for me,” Gilbert finished before Break got a chance to further object. “Just like you promised. It’s about time I paid my debt to you.”

All the stubbornness seemed to vanish from Break’s face, replaced by disbelief. His grip tightened around Sharon’s shoulder. He averted his eye. The young woman directed a forlorn, grateful smile at Gilbert. Oz felt prouder of his servant than he had any right to be.

“Break, was it?” Jack asked lightly. “Think of it this way: the Baskervilles are still after us, and the situation here is sure to get complicated. You wouldn’t want to leave Miss Sharon without a knight, would you?”

Break turned a deadpan stare towards the ghost. Jack held out a pendant hanging from a thin chain:

“This is yours, I think? I took it back from Lottie. Please don’t hold it against her, she was always overprotective.”

“The blood mirror!” Sharon cupped one hand over her mouth.

Oz noticed the way Break tested the stability of his feet before he deftly detached himself from Sharon and walked up to Jack. In spite of the smooth confidence he was showing, Oz couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry.

“Why thank you, Mister Hero,” Break snatched the chain from Jack’s hand and passed it around his neck. “I wish you a pleasant journey into the Abyss, then. Send my best regards to Alice, will you?”

Jack’s only answer was an obliging smile. Behind him, Vincent still had his gun pressed to his temple. Oz could see Gilbert trembling in his peripheral vision.

“Is there no other way, Oz?” the man asked. “We can’t just…”

“I’ll go, brother,” Vincent’s voice cut in.

“But…”

“On one condition,” Vincent’s mismatched eyes turned to slits. “If we meet the Will of the Abyss, you should be the one to make a wish.”

Gilbert started at that, but recovered quickly.

“I trust Oz,” he told his brother firmly. “Whatever wish he wants fulfilled, I’ll help him grant it.”

There was no mistaking the resentment in Vincent’s eyes when he turned to the Chain. Oz couldn’t help a shiver, which was thankfully hard to notice with his current appearance. He _really_ wasn’t deserving of anyone’s trust, for dragging them all back in this hell they had fought so hard to escape. All but Jack.

**“Jack will handle it,”** Oz said softly, yet his deep voice still made the roof rumble. **“He is the only one who can convince the Will of the Abyss.”**

“And don’t you try anything funny,” Alice pointed a warning finger at Jack. “You’ll ask her exactly what Oz told you to, and that’s it. Otherwise, you’re dead meat.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack grinned at her, seeming to find her suspicion absurdly funny. “It is my wish, after all.”

“What?” Gilbert asked, alarmed. “Oz, what does that mea…”

“We found them! Glen Baskerville, Sir, _we found them!_ ”

Oz turned round with a jolt, his black fur bristling in startled fear. Two men clad in Pandora’s uniform had just appeared at the window and were waving their way. They disappeared as fast as they had come, running in opposite directions with terrified cries.

**“Everybody get down!”** Oz shouted and got on all fours to shield the others with his body. In the next second, the wall exploded.

There was the inhuman screech of the Jabberwocky, a detonation and roaring fire that went to eat at Oz’s skin. The rabbit curled up on himself to cover the others as best as he could. He thought he heard his name somewhere in the commotion; he couldn’t be sure. The flaring pain, the nauseating smell of burning flesh and fur, it was all too much for Oz to take. All sounds drowned in a cry of agony that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

It stopped just as suddenly, in a burst of blue flames that forced Oz’s eyes open. The entire corridor had been destroyed; the rabbit could see the sky from his position on the ground. He barely even felt the pain of his burning wounds as he took in the view.

Two gigantic black birds were facing each other against the rising sun. Their monstrous beak and mouth were dripping with long flames. Their talons and claws dug into the ground. It looked like they could take to the sky and drag the entire world with them.

**“Run,”** Oz said in a ragged growl, unable to look away from the scene long enough to make sure the others had gotten away.

Gilbert was there before him. The man stood close to the Raven with a revolver in one hand, Elliot’s retrieved sword in the other, and faced his former master. Oz could tell that he was shaking. The rabbit felt a horrible sense of déjà vu.

All of a sudden it felt like he could read Leo’s expression from this distance: impassive features, every step filled with purpose as the possessed boy walked up to them, in stark contrast with the furious storm in his black eyes. Those accusing eyes trapped Gilbert as surely as they burnt Oz.

There was a black blur. Before Glen could come in hearing distance, Alice jumped on Gilbert’s back. The startled man staggered forward and barely recovered his balance. Alice plucked his ears.

“Stop it, Glen!” she screamed over Gilbert’s head and threw her legs around his chest so she wouldn’t fall off. The man hissed in pain when her heels dug into his ribs. “Raven and Oz are _my_ contractors! Leave us alone!”

It felt like time had frozen for them. Glen stood before them, his pale face stark against the black dragon wings that embraced his figure from behind. The beast’s feral slit yellow eyes squinted over his head ominously. The possessed boy’s expression was clearly visible now, his surreal eyes burning with one betrayal too many. For all of three seconds, Glen Baskerville didn’t move.

For the last time, Oz summoned the scythe. He heard Jack gasp.

‘Midnight.’

The earth opened under them in a giant black void. Glen jumped back when the chains burst from the darkness and snaked their way around the giant rabbit and three humans, but Vincent threw himself at his brother and caught him in a tight hug. Gilbert returned the embrace with Alice hanging precariously on his back, and the chains encircled all three. Jack had already started to sink. Raven vanished, but Gilbert never looked away from his former master.

When he told him: “I am sorry, Lord Glen,” among the nightmarish rattle of chains, Oz heard Jack say: “Goodbye, Oswald.”

Merciless metal sank in his fresh burns and wounds. Oz lifted his head to let out a howl. He saw a cloudless sky and a flock of birds. The rising sun lit their feathers a blazing gold. Then he was dragged down and darkness closed on them.

‘Back into the rabbit hole,’ the Chain thought derisively as the links bit into his flesh like slithering spiked snakes and dragged him down, down into a void that got darker with every yank of the chains, further down.

Their descent seemed endless. Oz wouldn’t even know they were falling if it weren’t for the coils pulling them. He couldn’t see or hear a thing, couldn’t tell whether the others were still with him. When he tried to call out, instead of releasing a sound, Oz almost choked on empty air. It felt like sinking without the water’s weight to break his fall.

It was an eternity before Oz recovered any of his senses. An old scent washed over him, thick with melancholy. It was faint, but the memory of it, along with the shock of finally smelling _something_ after his endless dive, hit the rabbit like a shockwave. Oz almost wanted to cover his nose from the strength of it. It was a sweet smell, tinted with moss. Oz was reminded of candlelight, dusty plush and dry flowers.

When he opened his eyes, Oz found himself in the same colourful room the pocket watch had first sent him to, with its red checkerboard floor and four walls made out of wooden shelves. Countless dolls were falling from them with delighted cackles. Invisible strings broke their fall, and for several seconds they just hung there in a circle, six feet above ground. In the middle, Jack was holding a crying white Alice in his arms.

“You came,” the little girl sobbed into his chest. “You came for me!”

Jack gave her a twirl. In a flash, Oz saw his flushed cheeks and exhilarated grin as he spun the Will of the Abyss around. The dolls started a round dance around them, clicking and chortling. The possessed boy and girl kept calling each other’s names in overjoyed voices as they danced together like two lost children who had just been reunited and could scarcely believe it.

Oz looked away from the mad scene. His gaze landed on the three of Vincent, Gilbert and Alice, who lay sprawled across the floor three feet away. The little girl was rubbing her forehead and grumbling in slight pain, seemingly unmindful of her sister and Jack’s antics. Gilbert, on the other hand, gaped at them in open disbelief. He pulled himself together when Vincent glared at the dancing duo and made to get up. Gilbert held him back by the shoulder and shook his head, ever wary in unfamiliar territory.

The movement, however slight, seemed to draw attention from the dolls. A blonde wigged crowned puppet dressed in red left the round dance to hover above the two men. As soon as she spotted it, Alice jumped to her feet and held out an arm before the two brothers. She stared the doll down. It whirled around with convulsive shrieks:

_‘He’s back!’_ The toy’s plastic eyes rolled in their sockets, _‘Vincent came back to cut us to pieces!’_

The Will of the Abyss froze in Jack’s arms. The dolls all flew away with a great racket. They screamed threats and warnings in mechanic voices as they circled the three humans without daring to come too close. Gilbert picked up the sword carefully, his other hand still holding onto Vincent’s shoulder in a silent command to be careful. Seemingly unbothered, his brother was reloading his gun with the hint of a playful smirk on his lips.

Gilbert met Oz’s eyes above Alice’s head and motioned for him to come closer with a tilt of his chin. Oz crawled over with careful steps. The ground shook under the weight of his huge black paws. The Chain cast an anxious glance at the Will of the Abyss. The little girl was holding on to Jack for dear life and hiding her face in his chest while her toys kept on shrieking around them.

“Why?” she sniffed and pointed a trembling finger at the group. “Why did you bring Vincent and Gilbert? They hate me! I don’t want them here, Jack!”

“Don’t worry,” Jack held her close, his smile ever serene among the chaos. “They won’t stay long. I needed their help in order to reach you. We should thank them, don’t you think?”

The little girl shook her head vehemently:

“They are _mean!_ ” she hiccupped. “Vincent killed Cheshire! Gilbert tried to kill me!”

“That’s all in the past,” Jack hushed her softly. “They are all grown up now, see? They won’t hurt you again.”

The Will of the Abyss peered over his arm like a shy child who didn’t dare move away from the safety of her parent’s embrace to go and play with the other kids. She flinched visibly when she saw the murderous glare on Vincent’s face, and her face dissolved into more cries. With an exasperated snarl, Alice punched a squeaking teddy bear out of her way and stepped forward, beckoning everyone’s attention:

“I told you I’d be back, Alice,” she told her twin. “No one will hurt you as long as I’m here, so stop crying already.”

The tears did stop, but the expression the Will of the Abyss was wearing didn’t reassure Oz in the least. Her snow-white hands were still digging into Jack’s back like claws. She made him turn around with surprising strength in order to face her sister:

“You are going to take him away,” she sobbed, her amethyst eyes defiant in spite of the wet trails on her cheeks. “You came to take Jack away from me, didn’t you?”

_‘Bad girl! Bad girl!’_ the toys chanted among the clatter of disarticulated wooden limbs and snickers. A few bounced off Oz’s large body. The rabbit shook them off and came to stand behind the two brothers to shield them from the raving toys. Alice stomped her foot on the floor:

“Be quiet, you!” she told them indignantly before turning back to her sister: “So what? That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? That bastard messed you up enough as it is!”

“Stop it!” the Will of the Abyss shouted, the sobs creeping back into her voice. “How can you be so cruel? You already have the world all for yourself! You got out of the Abyss and left me all alone! Jack is the only one who… the only one…”

Her voice broke and she buried her face in Jack’s shoulder once more, her whole frame shaking with distressed cries:

“Don’t leave me,” she begged him, her voice muffled by the clothes and tears. “Make them go away… Please stay with me forever, Jack....”

The ghost was making small soothing noises as he caressed her white back and hair comfortingly. His gestures were smooth and gentle, but Oz could see an odd glint in his vivid green eyes, the first signs of impatience. The rabbit got scared. One wrong word, and it all could come crashing down.

**“Alice, that’s not true!”** he said impulsively.

The Will of the Abyss started. Slowly, she turned towards him, her stare uncertain and somehow cold in her distress. _‘You spoke out of order!’_ the toys guffawed close to his ears, and Jack raised a questioning eyebrow at him, but all Oz could see was the terrified little girl in his arms.

Memories were rushing in the rabbit’s head, of endless days in the dark place the Abyss had morphed into, spent watching the smile disappear from Alice’s face. His lonely, fragile, miserable Alice, who so desperately wished for a friend, but was too scared to go out and face the world like her sister had. She had only ever had Oz and her sister before Jack came along, and after that, she had drifted further away until even they had become unable to reach her.

**“It wasn’t only Jack who came to visit you,”** Oz told her, struggling for the right words. This Alice was mad. She was desperate and unstable. But Oz couldn’t forget the little girl he had watched over for so long. He couldn’t bear to see her like this.

**“There was another man called Kevin Regnard. He made a promise to you, remember?”**

To his relief, there was an immediate spark of recognition in her tearful eyes. Oz heard a ruffling sound and looked down. Gilbert had come to stand beside him.

“That’s right,” he told the Will of the Abyss, slow and wary, but surprisingly gentle, like a man trying to coax a mistrustful wild animal. “He sent us here. We came to grant your wish in his stead. He is waiting for you on the other side.”

“Kevin…sent you?” she repeated uncertainly, her voice roughed from too much crying.

“The clown sent _him_ because he’s dying and too much of a wreck to come himself,” Alice pointed at Gilbert with a thumb and shrugged. “Whatever. You’re coming with us.”

The Will of the Abyss’ eyes widened in sudden fright. Her grip on Jack slackened. Her hands were shaking wildly.

“Kevin is dying…?”

The rabbit was surprised to find such deep concern in her eyes. The Will of the Abyss quivered and seemed to close up on herself, her thin fingers twining the ribbons on the front of her dress and getting tangled up in them. She didn’t seem to realize she was doing it. Jack put his hands on her shoulders:

“You should go,” he whispered to her, but Oz’s long ears caught the words right and clear. The girl’s small hands wound tighter in the silken bows.

“I’m scared,” she said in the same tone. “Everyone hates me outside....”

“Of course not. They don’t even know you yet. Besides,” Jack leaned forward to rest his chin on her naked shoulder and winked at her. “I’m sure you remember everything I told you about the outside world. Gardens, balls, operas… Don’t you want to see them for yourself?”

Her white cheeks turned a bright red. She looked down, away from Jack’s knowing eyes.

“…Will you be with me?” she asked feebly. Oz suspected she knew the answer.

Jack’s smile turned despondent. He embraced the frail girl from behind in a tight hug. Much like the ghost had hugged Oz every time he wanted to use his powers.

The rabbit felt his fur stand up on end. He had seen his fair share of Jack’s talent for winning people over, and this Alice had always been the most receptive to it. It was part of the plan. Oz had counted on it. He had been desperate. Now that he saw it at work, it was getting unbearable to watch.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” the murmur sent a shiver down Oz’s spine. “I have a last request before we part.”

“ _No!_ ” the Will of the Abyss tried to cover her ears, but her left hand remained tangled in the ribbons. It waved helplessly like a trapped white bird and came to land on Jack’s hand instead. It was shaking like a leaf. “Don’t go… You _promised!_ ”

“That’s why I have to do this,” Jack smoothly pried her other hand from her right ear and held it in his. “I have to go back. Otherwise, it will be like we had never met.”

“Good riddance,” Oz heard Alice grumble next to him, but it got lost in the clicking of the curious toys that surrounded them.

The other two humans stayed silent. They were straining their ears, Oz guessed, anxious to find out what the plan was about. Doubts were creeping like insects under his bestial skin. The Chain prayed to whatever deity there was – _the Core of the Abyss? Could they even trust Him?_ – that he had been right; everything would work out in the end…

“Go back?” the Will of the Abyss asked, intrigued in spite of herself. “But where?”

Just then, Jack lifted his head to cast Oz a conniving glance. The sick feeling in his stomach only got heavier.

“A long time ago,” the ghost told the little girl, “I was attacked by thugs. They beat me up badly; I would have died then, if it weren’t for the help of a young girl and her Chain.”

As before, the mere mention of her was enough to cast a heavy shadow over Jack’s eyes. Nonetheless, his patient smile remained on his lips.

“Her name is Lacie. Her Chain is the Blood-Stained Black Rabbit.”

Gilbert gasped. Oz didn’t dare look his way. The Will of the Abyss was still clutching Jack’s hand, looking lost and confused. Her violet eyes drifted over Oz and Alice like she had just noticed them:

“But… that’s…”

“Well, not quite the Black Rabbit,” Jack hummed, looking amused. “I almost didn’t recognize him; and he didn’t seem to have his powers in their entirety. He only used chains instead of his scythe.”

“What does that mean?” Gilbert asked, his voice tense with agitation. It sounded like his patience was wearing thin. Oz still couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. Jack only smiled:

“It means that the destructive powers of the Black Rabbit had been fragmented, as they are meant to be. They are too formidable to be contained in a single body for a long period of time, you see. Rather fittingly, the original twin rabbits, who went by the name of Oz, had the power to switch bodies.”

“Naturally, the same goes for Oz’s powers,” Jack’s expression almost looked hungry. Oz was grateful for the fact that the Will of the Abyss couldn’t see it. “In the past, your sister was able to steal them for herself, until Oz borrowed my body in order to make a contract with her. When Gilbert contracted them both, he and I became the contractors of the current twin Chains known as B-Rabbit: Oz and Alice. Now, Alice…”

Jack’s tone was even and sweet, but the little girl shuddered all the same. Oz couldn’t tell whether it was from fear or pleasure. She chanced an unsettled glance back at Jack. Oz held his breath.

“I want you to give me Oz’s powers,” the ghost susurrated. “I will become the Black Rabbit whom Lacie contracted.”

He could barely keep the excitement from his voice. Jack took a deep breath to calm himself, and added smoothly:

“This way, I can save myself, and our pasts won’t change. But if you don’t,” he said, voice syrupy as he caressed her cheek, “my past self will die, and our meeting will be erased.”

“That’s enough, Jack,” Alice snapped, startling them both. She made her way through the crowd of booing toys without sparing them a second glance, and held out her hand to her twin. “Let’s do it, Alice. I know how to transfer Oz’s powers, I’ll give you a hand.”

“But,” the Will of the Abyss hiccupped, “Jack… What will happen to you…?”

“I will stay by Lacie’s side,” the ghost answered without missing a beat. “Until the very end, when she was cast into the Abyss.”

The Will of the Abyss brought her hands to her mouth in horror. She made to get away. Jack only tightened his grip. He placed a chaste kiss on her temple:

“It’s okay, Alice,” he told her. “If this is the price for the chance of meeting you, I will happily pay it.”

Her eyes welled up with tears. Unable to hold back, she broke down in loud, desperate cries, her pallid fingers digging into Jack’s arms as he held her. Her twin couldn’t contain a grimace at the sight. Oz felt awful.

He could see the truth beneath Jack’s lies. This was the fate he had always wished for: to be together with Lacie, even in death. It made no difference to him if he had to take on the appearance and powers of a monster in order to reach this goal. Jack was happy, genuinely happy to run to his doom. He was only leading the Will of the Abyss on with white lies.

Oz knew all this. Had planned all this, taken advantage of both Jack and this Alice’s weaknesses in a desperate attempt to have his own wish granted. But he couldn’t go back, not as long as Gilbert and Alice were trapped here with him. So he swallowed his guilt and doubts, and spoke:

**“Alice,”** he told the Will of the Abyss, hating how scary his voice sounded. **“You can’t stay here. This place is driving you mad. We will show you the way back. Kevin Regnard will be there, and so will your sister. So will I. You won’t be alone anymore. So…”**

She was looking at him now, still shaking from her ear-piercing cries. She probably couldn’t even see him through the onslaught of tears that she couldn’t bring under control. Seeing her so upset, it suddenly struck Oz that he meant every word. Deceits and pretty lies came naturally to Jack, who had been manipulating the Will of the Abyss all along, but Oz couldn’t see past the helpless little girl who used to hold him in the dark. An insignificant plush rabbit, yet her only comfort in her timeless prison before the Tragedy.

**“Please… don’t cry.”**

The Will of the Abyss sniffed audibly. She looked from him to her sister, then to Jack, who nodded. Alice beckoned her with an imperious wave of her extended hand. Her sister gulped uneasily and, at long last, took it.

“Wait!”

‘Gil....’

Both sisters turned questioning gazes towards the man. The Will of the Abyss was wiping her cheeks with her free hand.

“What about Oz?” Gilbert asked. “What will happen to him after you take his powers?”

The Will of the Abyss frowned at him like he was the most stupid person she had ever met. The toys burst into a chorus of hollow laughter:

_‘Didn’t you know?’_ the rag doll of a jester asked among jingles from its hat. _‘The Abyss can turn humans and objects into Chains!’_

_‘And Chains make pacts in order to go back to the other side,’_ a rocking horse added. _‘For a chance at being human again!’_

_‘Even Cheshire wanted a human body,’_ the crowned doll in the red dress snickered.

_‘You have to pay the price!’_ a plush dodo cawed at Jack.

“It’s the least I can do,” the ghost laughed good-humouredly. “I don’t have a use for this body anymore. Once B-Rabbit’s power is shared between me and Alice and I take his appearance, Oz can have mine as payment.”

Even as the monster he was, Oz felt strangely small and exposed among the mocking toys. The truth was out. The selfish reason why he had insisted so much on fulfilling this plan when he couldn’t come up with a better solution.

“Really?” Gilbert asked in a hushed voice. “You can make Oz human again?”

Against his better judgement, Oz let his eyes wander to him. Gilbert looked giddy with joy, his pale cheeks flushed a bright red over a wide, almost boyish smile. It felt like forever since Oz had seen him so effusive. The Chain felt a fond laugh bubble up in his chest, only to remain trapped there.

The rabbit shook himself. For his servant’s sake, Oz tried not to think about the people he had used in order to get there; tried to forget about all the contracts that had gone wrong in the past. He had thought this through. They weren’t changing the past. There should be no repercussions.

All the same, Gilbert noticed his lack of reaction. A cloud crept over the man’s face. In the same moment, the Will of the Abyss turned to Oz and held out a delicate hand:

“You were late,” she told him, mildly reproachful. “But you did bring Jack to me in the end. So come along, Mister Rabbit.”

Before he could take a step, Oz felt a human hand on his arm. He looked down and met Gilbert’s eyes. Once again, Oz was stricken by how open they looked. No matter how they had narrowed over the past ten years, they were still the same bright gold, full of warmth and undisguised concern.

“Oz....”

Gilbert couldn’t form another word. Yet there was so much in that name, in the way he said it and looked up at Oz, laden with a love that Oz had always seen and craved, but never dared believe in. _‘You don’t have to do this,’_ Gilbert’s face said, bare before him like an open book. _‘You don’t know what might happen. I don’t want to lose you. Not again.’_

Oz could have wept then, would have kissed Gilbert right there and then if he had a human body to do so. To have this gaze directed at him, whether he was human or a Chain, to know that Gilbert didn’t and would never see the difference, it was almost enough to make him change his mind.

The rabbit attempted a smile, but stopped himself when he realized he couldn’t manage anything but a feral grin in this form. He couldn’t even give Gilbert that much as reassurance. Oz ducked his head to be level with his:

**“I have to do this, Gil,”** he told him in as gentle a growl as he could manage. **“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I never wanted this power in the first place... Jack can have it. Lacie won’t use it to destroy the world, she loves it too much for that.”**

Gilbert’s fingers sank in the rough fur and hung on like he was terrified to let go. He, too, looked torn between the temptation of hope and the urge to throw himself at Oz and never let go.

**“Let me do this, Gil,”** Oz asked, all too aware of his sharp teeth and claws, of how inhuman he really was, no matter what Gilbert saw beyond. **“I want to go back to the way we were.”**

As much as it seemed to cost him, Gilbert did let go. Oz crawled on all fours towards the twins and forced himself not to look back. Seeing Alice’s confident grin eased some of his fears.

Jack came to stand beside him. To the rabbit’s surprise, the ghost turned to look at the brothers. There was something akin to an apology in his smile:

“Vincent… Your red eye reminded me of Lacie. This is the reason I rescued you and Gilbert, all those years ago. I simply couldn’t stand by and leave you to die. It was this eye that saved your life and your brother’s.”

Oz heard a soft gasp behind him. Jack’s grin widened:

“It really is beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

With these parting words, the ghost turned back to the Will of the Abyss. They hugged one last time. Then Alice pulled her twin away and clasped their hands together. The Will of the Abyss rested her forehead against hers obediently. There were tears on her cheeks, but her lips were pressed together into a determined line. Alice’s expression mirrored hers.

A blinding glow erupted from their joined hands. It expanded until it swallowed the entire room and its cheering toys. Oz heard the broken grandfather clock strike twelve in the background before his sense of hearing was taken along with his sight. He felt small and naked in the raw light, like it was about to swallow him whole. Oz was dimly aware of another presence, very close, someone familiar and scary all the same.

_Jack._

Something was being taken from him, dragged away by that presence. Something strong and intimate, ripped straight from his very being, or so it felt like. Oz wanted to cry. He couldn’t move. He was drained dry, all his energy leaving his body like sunlight – _did he have a body?_ – until there was nothing but cold and emptiness, nothing but _Oz._

Suspended in this bare state somewhere between time and space, Oz heard a familiar tune in the distance. A young girl humming a song.

_Lacie._

Jack’s presence was drifting away, in the direction of the voice. _“Hey. My name is Lacie.”_ Oz felt an overwhelming joy that wasn’t his own. _“My name is B-Rabbit. Will you make a pact with me, Lacie?”_

Their voices flickered and died.

Suddenly a sharp pain pulled him down. Everything came back at once: weight, smell, sounds, _colours,_ everything too bright and cold for him to endure. It had to stop, lest he would go mad. _Oz._ Someone was calling. His limbs felt like they were made of lead, the angles looked too sharp, the reds and whites too vivid. _Oz._ Someone was calling him....

Oz opened his eyes to chaos. The room was breaking apart all around him in a rain of red and white rocks. The blast tore the sisters apart. The Will of the Abyss clutched her chest and opened her mouth wide in a mute cry when a bright glow was pulled from her body. She was falling backwards into the darkness. Only then did Oz realize he was falling too.

Small arms embraced him from behind – _human,_ Oz realized with a jolt, _I am human again_ – and he heard Alice’s voice in his ear. He tried to reach for her hands around his chest, but his whole body was quivering. Darkness was closing in on them, weighing him down. He couldn’t move.

“ _Oz!_ ”

Oz’s eyes widened. His body was _shrinking._ In his panic, his eyes looked all over the collapsing room for the source of the voice. He saw black wings and a glint of metal. At last his lips were unsealed:

“ _Gil!_ Call… my name!”

Those were Oz’s last words before his voice got sucked into the darkness.


	4. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Previous chapter summary)
> 
> Gilbert frees Oz and Alice from Jack’s control by making a contract with them, but the illegal contractor’s seal remains on Jack’s body. When the needle completes its course, the four of them get thrown into the Abyss along with Vincent.
> 
> As a last resort, Oz decides to meet the Will of the Abyss and convinces Jack to make a deal with her: Oz and Jack switch bodies so the latter can become B-Rabbit, travel back to a time before Oz became sentient, then contract Lacie and fight the thugs that almost killed Jack in the past; thus justifying the time paradox. When Oz comes to in his human body, the Abyss starts to collapse around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where everyone gets their wish. You may or may not hate me for this, but I figured the genre was fair warning.
> 
> As previously said, I had to cut the chapter in two due to its length and my slow writing. Sorry for the inconvenience... You will get all remaining questions answered in the next (and final) chapter, I promise.

There was something soothing about watching a hearth fire. To Gilbert, the feeling was almost alienating. It was nothing like the fickle burn of gunpowder before a shot, nor the blue furnace that Raven left in his wake along with a fiery rain of black feathers.

This fire was tame: a crackling creature slumbering in its nest of logs, safely tucked away behind the fireplace grate. Even the smoke was but a shadow of the acrid smell Gilbert had grown accustomed to. It clung to him like a second skin. Just like the smell of blood, it was impossible to wash away completely.

The small flames had burnt the night away. Gilbert found some reassurance in the steady task of replacing logs and reviving dying embers: the fire was easy to watch over and keep alive. The hypnotizing dance of the flames kept his thoughts from going frantic. That night, however, they weren’t enough to ease his mind. Not that Gilbert really expected them to.

“Oz,” the man whispered without taking his eyes off the fire. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer. For several minutes, Gilbert listened to the small cracks and snaps the flames made as they swirled and burst into red sparks. His face felt hot in their light. It could keep him awake for hours.

“Don’t worry,” Gilbert said with a small smile, “I’m not tired. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.”

He had always had trouble sleeping. In fact, Gilbert would be hard pressed to remember a time when he had slept soundly if it didn’t immediately follow a day’s work – which, more often than not, translated to _murder_ – that left him so exhausted he all but collapsed on the nearest soft-looking furniture upon getting home.

Home....

“Are you nervous?” Gilbert asked.

The weight on his shoulders felt all the heavier after voicing the question. Gilbert himself was so taut he could feel it in his bones, like his entire body had turned to friable stone. With every passing hour he felt closer to his breaking point, like the lightest draft could make him crumble. No amount of staring into the fire could distract him from the creeping dawn.

At last, the day had come. Gilbert had dreaded this date as viciously as he had wished for it to come faster. He had no clear idea of what to expect, but the hope he clung to was getting unbearable.

The man tensed up when he heard a soft click behind him. His knee-jerk reaction was to grab the gun he kept hidden under the cushions of the couch, but he stopped himself midway when he turned round and saw who was peeking from behind the door. A wide blue eye was peering through the gap.

“Elliot… What are you doing here?”

Gilbert’s inquiry was gentle, but his adopted sibling jumped out of his skin upon being sighted. He ran his one visible eye over the room and made a point to look anywhere but at Gilbert. The man watched him in confusion until the boy recovered from his uneasiness and threw the door open with a decisive frown. Gilbert had a moment of panic over the noise that would make, but Elliot kept a tight grip on the door so it wouldn’t actually slam against the opposite wall.

The little boy was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, glaring at Gilbert in silent defiance. Elliot was trying hard not to blink or pout: his left eye was twitching and his chubby cheeks were turning red from the effort.

Gilbert couldn’t help but smile in endearment. That only fuelled Elliot’s anger.

“I _knew_ I’d find you here!” the child said with all the indignation a six year old could muster. “I saw the light under the door. You stayed up all night again!”

“You shouldn’t be up at this hour,” Gilbert gestured for him to be quieter. “Hurry back to bed.”

“I’m not the one who has to go to a _stupid_ party tomor- today!”

“It’s not stupid,” Gilbert protested out of reflex. He faltered when he saw the look on the child’s face. “Look,” he added in a softer tone, “I’m sorry you can’t come, but…”

“It’s not like I _wanna_ come, dummy!” Elliot covered his mouth hastily when he realized he had been too loud. “I don’t wanna go,” he grumbled, his cheeks turning redder by the second. “I hate the Vessalius family.”

Gilbert rubbed his temple wearily. Sometimes he couldn’t tell whether Elliot was being honest or just trying to change the subject. The man was about to drop the issue and send his foster sibling to bed, but when he reopened his eyes, Elliot had rounded on him. The child was glaring daggers at Gilbert’s silent companion.

“Wait, what are _you_ doing here?” Elliot asked, forgetting to keep his voice down in his renewed aggravation. “You let Gilbert stay up without saying anything? _What kind of master are you?_ ”

“Don’t!”

The child reached for the pile of fluffy towels sitting next to Gilbert, but the man snatched Oz away before Elliot could grab him.

“Stop bullying him,” the man held the plush rabbit to his chest protectively. “It’s not Oz’s fault, he… fell in a puddle yesterday, so I gave him a bath. I was keeping him company while he dried off.”

Elliot eyed the two of them suspiciously. Gilbert groaned internally. He had always been a terrible liar, but he couldn’t tell Elliot the truth.

Only hours prior, Oz had been covered in blood.

It had been a close call this time: there had been two attackers, but Gilbert had noticed the assassin’s accomplice a mere three seconds before the man attacked Alice from the back. She had jumped out of the way right before Gilbert shot the man in the head. Blood had splattered all over the plush rabbit in her arms.

Gilbert hugged him tighter. Feeling the feather-light weight in his arms tempered him somewhat. Oz was safe and clean, warm from the fire, still slightly damp and smelling of soap – as fine as he could be.

_For now,_ the voice in his head murmured.

“Oz this, Oz that,” Elliot grumbled, startling Gilbert out of his thoughts, “it’s always about Oz....”

Gilbert looked at the boy questioningly, unsure how to respond. Elliot went on without looking at him:

“Why hasn’t he turned back yet?”

Gilbert shook his head slowly:

“I don’t know....”

“But you said he would turn back today!” Elliot said. “The clock says it’s morning already! He’s _late!_ ”

“I meant at the ceremony,” Gilbert whispered. And he had said Oz might turn back. It was mere speculation – _blind hope_ – on his part.

The rest of Elliot’s protests distracted the man from drifting further into gloomy thoughts. Gilbert glanced up at the grandfather clock. Half past four. His shoulders slouched. Elliot was impossible.

Before he could scold the boy again, there was a sudden whack, followed by a yelp from Elliot. When he glanced down, Gilbert found a messy-haired six year old holding a thick book over Elliot’s head. It looked like the second child had snuck up on them on bare feet while they were arguing.

“What was that for?” Elliot hissed, only to get whacked again.

“Be quiet,” Leo told him in a lazy drawl that ended on a yawn. “You’re gonna wake everyone up.”

Elliot’s mouth clicked shut. He looked up at the ceiling anxiously and tilted his head to the side, listening. Once he had made sure there were no footsteps to be heard, he shook his fist at the other boy:

“Well I wouldn’t have yelled if you hadn’t hit me! Servants don’t hit their masters, idiot!”

“You were being stupid,” Leo wrapped an arm around his book and held it against his chest so he could rub his eyes with his free hand.

“Gilbert, Leo hit me!”

“Calm down, both of you,” Gilbert chastised them. “Leo, you shouldn’t hit people with… where did you find this book?”

Both boys started. Leo seemed to repress the urge to hide the heavy volume behind his back. Elliot bit his bottom lip as his eyes darted from Gilbert to the book. Leo’s bangs drooped lower over his eyes. He opened his mouth, but Elliot was faster:

“I lent it to him! It…” Elliot’s eyes dropped to the floor. “It was in the library....”

Gilbert sighed. He didn’t need to look at the cover to know the book didn’t belong in the children’s section.

Elliot had been so scandalized when Leo had caught up to his reading lessons that he had challenged the other boy to read the hardest books he could find in the library. They had struggled together on the first chapters of Arthur Barma’s _Legacy of Sablier_ , until Vanessa found out and took it away lest the boys damage the book. Since then, it had turned into a game, and the boys grabbed whatever book came within their reach for more challenges.

“We’d better return it before someone notices,” Gilbert held out his hand to Leo. “I’ll take care of it.”

Leo threw him a half-hearted glare, but handed the book over obediently. Both children were still sulking after Gilbert had escorted them back to Elliot’s room, carrying Oz in his arms. Before he could usher Elliot through the door, the young noble grabbed his sleeve. Gilbert looked down at him expectantly, but the child kept his head low.

“What is it?” the man asked.

Elliot refused to answer. Leo watched them both in silence, then let out a dark chuckle:

“He’s afraid you’ll stay with the Vessalius family.”

“Am not!” Elliot lifted his head to glare at his servant. “He won’t!”

“Of course he won’t,” Leo’s eyes bore into Gilbert’s through thick black hair. “’cause he’s a Reaper.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is,” Leo was still glaring at Gilbert. “We’re both going to leave one day.”

“That’s _not_ true!”

Neither child heard Gilbert over their argument as he tried to calm them down. He knelt beside Elliot and passed an arm around his shoulders. His foster brother was trembling, his teeth clenched to prevent himself from shouting at his servant. He stopped talking back when Gilbert gave his slight frame a one-armed hug.

Still the boy wouldn’t meet his eyes. Gilbert turned to Leo:

“What are you talking about?” Confusion and worry made his voice barely audible to his own ears.

Leo pressed his lips together in a thin line. His hair fell in front of his face, obstructing it completely.

“It’s true,” he said. “That’s why you brought me here. You’re gonna give me over to the Baskervilles.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened.

“’s not true,” Elliot repeated, his voice nothing but a faint growl now.

The man looked from one boy to the other, agitated by their stiff shoulders and downcast expressions. He shook his head slowly:

“It’s not like that…”

“I heard Vincent talk to Duke Nightray,” Leo interjected. “They said I was the Reapers’ leader. They said Glen Baskerville lives in my head.”

Gilbert’s breath caught when the young servant started rubbing at his temple furiously. He knew this gesture all too well. It was starting all over again....

Gilbert had hoped that he could shield Leo from Glen’s influence and tell him the truth when the child was ready to face it. He should have known better. After all, there were no Sealing Stones to keep Glen’s spirit away this time around. Leo had probably heard his past incarnations’ voices all his life.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Gilbert told him firmly. “You are your own person.”

“…Then it was true?”

Gilbert glanced sideways at Elliot. His clear eyes were wide with awe and uncertainty. Gilbert could still feel him shaking against his arm. Leo had gone quiet. The man’s lips quivered under the children’s scrutiny.

“It’s complicated...” Gilbert eyed Oz uneasily. He couldn’t see his face in the dark.

“That’s what you always say,” Elliot grumbled. “You never tell us anything because you think we’re dumb.”

Gilbert’s heart sank. He watched the two boys and weighed his options. He realized that he wasn’t being fair to them. The man had always kept his distance, afraid of saying too much, of getting them involved in this insane world he had to face on a daily basis; past, present and future so tightly entwined Gilbert couldn’t tell them apart anymore....

Regardless, he had hurt them. Elliot and Leo were young and curious, always full of questions. Try as he might, Gilbert couldn’t avoid them at all times, and vague answers could only get them so far. It was only a matter of time until they found out something incriminating. Now that they had drawn their own conclusions, Gilbert felt cornered, desperate to make it up to them somehow.

But how much could he tell them?

Gilbert squeezed Elliot’s shoulder and searched Leo’s eyes under his wild mane:

“It’s late,” he whispered. “And it is a long story… but I’ll tell you what I can.”

Both children turned towards him with their mouths hanging open. It was almost comical how similar they looked in this moment.

“What? Really?” Elliot blurted out. “You’ll tell us about the world you came from?”

Leo cleared his throat:

“You don’t have to, Master Gilbert,” the servant fidgeted, back to his cautious formality. “If it bothers you…”

Gilbert smiled and shook his head:

“It’s okay. There are things you should know.”

Elliot flashed a toothy grin at him, all resentment forgotten, and raced Leo to the twin-sized bed. The other child followed at a slower pace. The bed creaked in protest when Elliot bounced on it – Gilbert dearly hoped he hadn’t kicked through yet another bed base. The young noble pointed an accusing finger at Leo when he realized his servant was dragging his feet:

“You weren’t even _trying!_ ”

“I never agreed to the race,” Leo deadpanned before sitting on the small wooden chair he usually occupied.

“Oh, whatever,” Elliot rolled his eyes and kicked the covers so he could settle on the bed. Gilbert was about to tuck him in, but his sibling gestured for him to wait.

“C’m’ere, Leo,” he said, petting the small space at his side. “You’ll be cold if you stay over there.”

Leo stilled. It was hard to be sure with his tousled hair hiding half his face, but Gilbert got the impression that the young servant was looking directly at him. Gilbert gave him a small nod of encouragement.

“Come on!” Elliot tapped the mattress insistently. “You too, shorty.”

He had turned to Gilbert when he had said that last bit – or rather, to Oz. Gilbert smiled and handed the plush rabbit over:

“His name is Oz,” he scolded his brother mildly. Elliot ignored him and sat the rabbit between himself and Leo, who had climbed on the bed to sit beside him. Gilbert tucked the three of them in.

“So!” Elliot exclaimed as soon as Gilbert had withdrawn his hand. Leo elbowed him, and his master lowered his voice. “You really come from the future?”

Gilbert sat on the armchair Elliot’s siblings usually used to tell him bedtime stories, and drew an uneasy hand through his hair:

“Yes… But a future that’s no longer possible,” the man said, struggling for the right words. “Things have changed.”

“But Leo was there, right?” Elliot insisted. “That’s how you knew he was a Baskerville. Was I there too?”

Gilbert’s throat clenched. He gave his sibling a wavering smile:

“Yes. You were there.”

The boy’s smile widened. He opened his mouth to ask something more, then closed it with a sudden frown.

“But I wasn’t a Baskerville, right? I was a Nightray!” the child leaned forward in earnest.

“Yes,” Gilbert said, startled. “Of course you were.”

“Then you were a Nightray as well!” Elliot said with finality. “Vincent, too! We were all brothers in that world!”

He held Gilbert’s gaze fiercely, daring the man to contradict him. Gilbert squirmed a little, unsure how to handle Elliot’s sudden determination to tell the story himself.

“Well, yes. Vincent and I were adopted into your family.”

“Good!” Elliot turned to Leo with a victorious nod. His servant ignored him. Gilbert’s attention shifted to the little rabbit between the two; he looked very black against the spotless white of the sheets.

“But the Vessalius family found me first,” Gilbert could feel the corners of his lips quirking up at the memory. “That’s how I met Oz.”

Elliot grumbled at that, but Gilbert went on regardless:

“I wasn’t much older than you two. At the time, I didn’t remember that I once belonged to the Baskerville clan,” he told Leo. “In fact, I remembered nothing at all, except for my name. But the Vessalius family gave me a place to call home. I didn’t need anything else. I served Oz for five years; I was happy.”

Leo was still. Gilbert took a deep breath:

“So happy that I was afraid to remember my past. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of what I had gained, to get between me and the people I’d grown to love....” He regarded the two boys and rabbit, a wistful smile lingering on his lips. “It took me years to realize that it made no difference. When I became a nobleman – and later, when I finally regained my memories – nothing changed. My place was always by Oz’s side.”

“Why?” Elliot protested. “You just said you were a Nightray! You can’t be a Nightray and a servant of the Vessalius!”

Gilbert chuckled: “Oz said I could.”

“Well that’s just _stupid!_ ” Elliot huffed and made to punch the plush rabbit, but Leo caught his fist in time.

“Don’t _do_ that!” Gilbert cried out. “Oz said that because he thought our two families should get along! Actually,” bittersweet amusement replaced some of Gilbert’s distress from Elliot’s behaviour, “you agreed to help him improve the relationship between the Vessalius and Nightray Households.”

Elliot’s eyes widened:

“I did? When?”

“You were about sixteen…”

“Oh! _Oh!_ Did I have my own sword then?”

Gilbert felt a pang at that.

“Yes… you did.”

His foster brother didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. The little boy was beaming with excitement:

“Did I slice any dragons?”

Gilbert had to swallow the lump obstructing his throat. _All of the Nightray siblings, slaughtered one by one. Elliot’s horrified expression as Break held him down:_

_“Don’t move, Elliot Nightray… Or should I say, Headhunter?”_

“You were very brave,” the man murmured. “And strong. But you… were always rushing ahead recklessly. And that… It…”

It took all of his willpower to meet Elliot’s gaze.

“…That got you in serious trouble. You should really be careful with that sword…”

“That sounds like you alright,” Leo snickered. Elliot punched him in the shoulder.

_Leo’s chilling scream, a race through the tunnels, blood everywhere...._

“And was I good at playing the piano?” Elliot asked, startling Gilbert out of the grisly vision. “I was better than Leo, right?”

The man managed a shaky smile:

“You were both very talented. You played many duos. I think you wrote most of your pieces together.”

Elliot turned to Leo with renewed enthusiasm:

“See? We’ll still be playing together when we’re grown up! You don’t have to go with the Baskervilles!”

“Gilbert said it was a different future,” Leo pointed out. He sounded anxious.

“Then I’ll make it happen!” Elliot countered. “It’s okay, you can be my servant and a Baskerville. Zwei is a Baskerville too, right?”

Leo hesitated. Then he smirked:

“Yes. And Gilbert is a Nightray serving a Vessalius.”

Elliot flushed: “That’s completely different!”

“Hypocrite,” Leo taunted.

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Well _I_ will have a sword and you won’t!”

“Then I’ll have a dragon.”

“Then _I…_ wait, really?” Elliot turned to Gilbert: “Gilbert, did Leo have a dragon?”

“I read something about that,” Leo moved a strand of hair out of his face to give the man a pointed look. “Glen Baskerville had a dragon, right?”

_Leo’s deranged eyes as he spoke of the Abyss. A giant grotesque beast framing his small body._

_“Farewell, Oz.”_

_The glowing runes at Oz’s feet, the breach to the darkness, the chains, no, not_ again _, Oz…!_

“Hey, Gilbert! Don’t fall asleep!”

Elliot’s voice was like a splash of cold water. Gilbert heaved, his pulse beating madly against his throat, nearly choking him. He took in the sight of the two boys, startled and inquisitive, but _there,_ they were still there, alive and well…

‘How long? How long before the Abyss takes them back?’

Gilbert fisted his hair and shoved the thought to the far back of his mind. His eyes searched Oz’s in the dark. He wouldn’t let himself think like that. Oz had granted his friends a second chance. They should make the most of it. Gilbert would protect them to the end.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked.

The man took a deep breath and let his hand fall back on his knee. He smiled at the children; to his relief, it no longer felt forced.

“Yes… I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he assured them. “You are right, Leo: the Jabberwocky is one of the five Black Winged Chains that Glen Baskerville used to possess.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows: “Like Raven?”

“Yes, like Raven.”

Gilbert remembered this exhilarating night from another time, when all five birds had taken to the sky so the world could be reborn. The surge of power that electrified the air, the unbreakable bond that kept all five contractors connected under the fire of their Chains....

Yes. He could tell them that much.

“Things have changed, since the Tragedy of Sablier,” Gilbert clarified. “Glen Baskerville can no longer pretend to hold as much power as he used to. This is an agreement Pandora and the Baskervilles had to come to: each of the four Dukedoms has an entitled Black Winged Chain and Gate to the Abyss. For every generation, an heir to the duke or duchess must contract this Chain as a representative of Pandora, and another shall inherit the title of heir to his or her house. The Jabberwocky, on the other hand, is Glen Baskerville’s legacy, as is the fifth Gate.”

Elliot listened closely, his pointed nose scrunched up in concentration:

“So you’re the Nightrays’ representative as a Pandora agent?”

Gilbert looked to the side, feeling a little sheepish.

“Actually, my status is a little…unusual. I think most people at Pandora Headquarters think of me as a free agent.”

To his bemusement, Elliot perked up immediately:

“Like Xerxes Break?”

A short laugh bubbled up in Gilbert’s throat:

“Yes… something like that.”

“That’s so cool!” Elliot exclaimed with stars in his eyes, and once again Leo had to chastise him for being too loud. Their squirming shook the mattress and made Oz topple forward. Elliot straightened him up with a mumbled apology.

“So…” the child asked, eying the plush rabbit warily. “Is Oz the Vessalius heir, then?”

A heavy lump crawled its way back up Gilbert’s throat. For the first time, he regretted having taken Oz along. It wasn’t a subject Gilbert liked to broach in his presence.

“Oz is… In this time…” the words tasted sour in his mouth. “Well… he never had a Coming of Age Ceremony. He wasn’t formerly acknowledged as a member of the Vessalius Household, so....”

His smile turned bittersweet. Most people didn’t even acknowledge Oz as a sentient being, let alone a man.

Silence lingered. It weighed on their small group as the two children glanced from one occupant of the room to another. They fidgeted and fumbled with their blankets. Oz was perfectly still, a shadow within shadows.

At long last, Leo broke the silence:

“What happened to him?”

Gilbert bit his lip. How could he even begin to explain that?

“He…”

The man swallowed his uneasiness. He could count the people from this time who believed in Oz on one hand. Elliot and Leo deserved to know.

“Oz was cursed,” Gilbert whispered.

Elliot nodded in silent understanding. Inconsequent as it was, the gesture comforted Gilbert. He rummaged through his pants’ pocket. The thin chain of the old pocket watch tinkled as he pulled it out. The children leaned over to take a better look.

“Long ago, this watch was possessed by a ghost,” Gilbert told them. “It was attached to a secret grave in the Vessalius estate. No one knew of its existence, or the identity of the deceased. Until one day, Oz, who was just about to come of age, went to explore the gardens and heard a mysterious melody.”

Gilbert flicked the watch open. The children held their breaths. There was no sound but the distant call of night birds.

Elliot pouted: “It’s broken.”

“Yes. That’s because the ghost is gone.” Gilbert’s lips twisted into a sneer. “He is long gone.”

Elliot inched back, eyebrows furrowed in worry. Gilbert stared at him in puzzlement, and gradually the boy seemed to relax.

“Did you get rid of it?” Elliot asked.

“It wasn’t that easy, believe me…”

“Maybe you should start from the beginning,” Leo advised meekly. “So Oz found the grave. And then?”

Gilbert smiled ruefully. He was never good at telling stories, even when it mattered most.

“After finding the watch, Oz went into a trance… I think that’s when he got possessed. But there was no clear sign; I was there with him, and yet I didn’t notice a thing.”

An old guilt weighed down on his chest. Gilbert had gotten accustomed to its presence long ago. He barely noticed it anymore, but he never forgot.

“Neither Oz nor I understood what was going on. Back then, the children of nobles were rarely told about the Abyss until they came of age,” Gilbert clarified. “But the watch contained some power from the Abyss. Therefore, as its messengers, the Baskervilles had to step in. And…”

_Zai Vessalius had betrayed Oz. He must have known all along, somehow, that despicable man – he had treated this amazing boy like_ filth _, discarded him like it was nothing, like he had never been able to see…_

Gilbert’s fist clenched.

“…They threw Oz into the Abyss. He had no idea why. Oz was trapped there for ten years…”

He broke off. Just talking about it made him feel sick. Betraying the Vessalius family, being ostracized by the Nightrays, the murders and plotting, the constant fear that it may all be for naught, that Oz may be long dead or _worse_ …

_You can’t protect anyone._

A gentle touch on his arm jolted him out of his thoughts. Elliot pulled back his hand with an embarrassed flush. Oz had slid to the right and was leaning against the child’s side.

Gilbert focused on the sight and willed the insidious voice out of his head. It was stronger today, feeding on his anxiety and memories, but the man had gotten better at ignoring it. Oz was here, he told himself. _Oz was right here,_ he wouldn’t lose him, never again.

“…It only felt like a few hours to him,” Gilbert said, unsure whether he was trying to reassure the children or himself. “He was saved by a Chain known as the Black Rabbit, but whose actual name was Alice.”

“Alice?” Elliot parroted, startled out of his concern. “But…isn’t she _your_ Chain? …Or something?”

Gilbert nodded: “But back then, she was Oz’s Chain. I contracted her much later. When Oz was thrown into the Abyss, he and Alice had to form an illegal contract in order to escape. I could see him again at last....”

“What about the ghost?” Elliot asked when Gilbert’s pause proved too long.

The man tried to gather his thoughts and not give in to feelings of the past, be it anger or joy.

“The ghost… Unbeknownst to us, his powers kept growing. This contract between Oz and Alice had set his plans in motion. You and Leo both read about illegal contractors before, right? Oz, too, had a seal. Every time the needle advanced, his bond with Alice grew stronger, and the ghost gained more influence over him. Given enough time, the ghost would have taken complete control of them both…”

_Jack’s taunting words slurring out of Oz’s lips as the possessed boy danced with slithering chains, and the giant rabbit screamed in agony. To think it had taken Gilbert this long to realise who the monster was…_

“Eventually, Oz realized that he himself was becoming the Chain B-Rabbit, and that the ghost was the one claiming his human body and becoming the contractor.”

Gilbert shook his head to rid it of the hateful thoughts that plagued him:

“In order to protect Alice from the ghost’s influence, Oz ended his contract with her. But that wasn’t enough to get rid of the ghost, and Alice was sent back to the Abyss as a result. I used Raven in order to reach her, and we made a pact. I knew I would need her help to save Oz. We fought the ghost together…”

_And it had been such_ bliss _, when Gilbert had sealed Jack away with Raven’s power and_ finally _Oz was himself again, still shaken and distraught but there, in full control of his body and voice, there with him…_

“I made a pact with Oz to free him from the ghost’s control, but…”

Gilbert’s voice broke. He couldn’t go on.

“The seal didn’t disappear, right? You can’t break a former contract just by making a new one.”

The man raised his head to meet Leo’s gaze. The child’s words had been hesitant, almost mechanical, like he had repeated a line that had just been whispered to him. Gilbert shivered at the thought.

Glen was listening.

Gilbert shook himself. If the children deserved to know the truth, Glen’s past incarnations needed it more. It was about time they reconsidered the so-called balance that had almost led the world to its destruction. One day, when Leo was older, someone would have to tell him about Jack and Lacie. The boy needed the knowledge if he really were to inherit the title of Glen Baskerville.

Gilbert acquiesced to Leo’s words, and gave a bitter smile. Oz would be better suited to tell this specific story. For now, it was Oz’s tale that Gilbert had to finish; the way he had ultimately failed to protect his young master.

So, with a longing stare at the plush rabbit between the two boys, Gilbert started over.

He told them the way Oz had tricked the ghost into becoming the victim of his own curse. How the ghost had become a Chain, and how Oz had gotten his human body back. When suddenly, after the Will of the Abyss had granted Jack’s wish, everything had been immersed in golden light. Gilbert and Vincent had been separated in the confusion. The air had been heavy with electricity. Gilbert had felt a vicious pull, something immensely powerful leaving his body in waves, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

_Then Gilbert knew, with frightening certainty, that it was the power of B-Rabbit being taken from him. He could feel it through his contract with Oz._

_Oz was fading._

_His apprehension was impossible to repress. Gilbert clung to the belief that Oz’s plan would go smoothly, that soon they would all be back, that Oz would be free at last, without Jack or his destructive powers to haunt him. Yet the fear was stronger. Gilbert called to him, desperate to at least hear his voice._

_The ground collapsed under his feet. Gilbert reached out blindly with his left hand. Black wings burst out of the darkness, long feathers sliding through his fingers, spreading under him, breaking his fall. Gilbert could still feel the heavy metal of the black blade in his right hand. Frantically, he searched the collapsing room for his companions._

_“_ Oz! _”_

_Here he was, back in his human body, the distress in his emerald eyes unmistakable, falling in the darkness of the Abyss. Alice was at his back, clinging to him with all her might. The Raven dived after them. Gilbert was clenching the sword’s hilt, ready to open the Nightray Gate as soon as he reached them. He let go of the Raven’s plumage as the bird continued its descent. Oz’s desperate cry reached him just as the man’s hand brushed Alice’s forearm._

_A swipe of the sword, and the Gate to the Abyss burst open._

“We made it out of the Gate… and the first thing I saw was you,” Gilbert told Elliot. “You wouldn’t remember. You were still a baby. Your brother Ernest had wanted to show you Raven’s Gate. I have no idea why he did something so dangerous, I think he hoped you could contract Raven one day if he failed, but _really,_ how could he be so… Well, your father told him as much,” Gilbert gave a quivering sigh. “I didn’t stop to think about it at the time. The only thing I could think of was that I had just left my own time.”

_A startled scream. A young sandy-haired man gaping at him. A blue-eyed toddler in the man’s arms. The clanging of metal when the sword fell out of Gilbert’s hand._

_Ernest Nightray._ Elliot. _Elliot was alive, they were both alive… they were_ younger.

_Where was Oz?_

“Vincent and the Will of the Abyss had disappeared. As for Oz and Alice…”

_Gilbert turned round and saw Alice. She was kneeling on the ground and breathing heavily, clutching something black in her hands. Gilbert searched the rest of the room with frantic eyes, he couldn’t find Oz, it wasn’t possible, he couldn’t…_

_His eyes went back to Alice. The little girl was muttering to herself and biting into the black object she held. Gilbert stepped closer. The sound was deafening. Everything went cold._

_She was holding a plush rabbit._

_“Wake up,” Alice said with every bite. “Wake up. Wake up…!”_

“We weren’t thinking straight. Alice and I. The only reason we didn’t get arrested on the spot was the Nightray crest on my clothes. Your father and brothers were quick to realise I had contracted Raven. They wanted to question me before contacting Pandora Headquarters.”

_Gilbert lost track of time. He couldn’t look away from the child and rabbit. He was only vaguely aware of his surroundings: deep, angry voices, anxious inquiries, being led through stairs and corridors to the Duke’s office. Bernard Nightray was there, younger, but stern as always, his face expectant. Gilbert heard none of his questions. Something inside of him was screaming. He had become deaf to everything but the storm in his chest._

_Alice kept biting Oz, pulling at his ears with her teeth. Gilbert could see tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. He didn't have the heart to stop her._

_A snow-white homing pigeon was sitting on the window. Suddenly there was a letter in his hand. Duke Nightray looked vexed, but curious. It took one look at the handwriting, and Gilbert was awake in an instant._

_“Vince!”_

_The letter was brief, its rushed sentences shaking with anxiety. Gilbert’s heart started beating wildly as he scanned through the words, caught between hope and fear._

_“Vincent made it through the Vessalius Gate,” Gilbert looked up abruptly. “The Will… your sister might be there!”_

_Alice froze midway through another bite to stare at him with rapt attention. The Duke narrowed his eyes:_

_“I believe you owe me an explanation…”_

_Gilbert jumped to his feet._

_“Let’s go, Alice!”_

_The little girl nodded. Ignoring Bernard Nightray’s protests, they ran for the door. When they turned the corridor, Gilbert heard the Duke call the guards. Gilbert turned left and pushed Alice through the small wooden side door the servants used. Most noblemen disregarded it completely, but Gilbert knew that it lead to the laundry room, and then a shortcut to the stable._

_Most of the horses they found there were unfamiliar to him, but Gilbert did recognize two young stallions from the matching white marks on their foreheads. The horses wouldn’t remember him, but Gilbert recognized them as the oldest stallions the Nightray family owned. They might not be as tame as he remembered, but they were his safest option._

_“We don’t have the time to put up a carriage,” the man told Alice as he untied a rein hanging from the loose-box and fastened it on the tallest horse. “Do you know how to ride a horse, Alice?”_

_“Of course I do!” the little girl answered in an offended tone, and kicked the stable’s wooden double doors open with a creak. The morning sun painted the straw and animals in warm colours, like a picture coming to life. The wind against their skin felt surreal after their dive into the Abyss. “All you have to do is sit on it and tell it where to go!”_

_Gilbert didn’t have enough energy left for aggravation. He opened the door for the horse and led it out of its loose-box. He was about to take a blanket and a saddle from their shelf when approaching footsteps stopped his movement. Gilbert swore under his breath:_

_“There’s no time to saddle a second horse anyway.”_

_The man hoisted a protesting Alice on to the horse’s back. The little girl wavered and put a hand on the horse to keep her balance, while her other hand held Oz to her chest. Gilbert mounted before her. Right then, they heard the jingle of keys from the door they had entered through._

_“Hold on to me!” Gilbert told Alice, and he spurred the stallion on._

_The horse gave a startled neigh and darted forward. Alice’s retort turned into a horrified squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. She hugged the cavalier from behind and held on for dear life with her stuffed rabbit crushed between their bodies._

_Gilbert was almost knocked off, and brought his legs closer against his mount’s flanks in a hasty attempt to remain steady. He forced the sensation of Oz’s too soft body out of his mind and focused all his attention on following the horse’s movements._

_They rode for miles. Alice kept asking if they were there yet, her tone increasingly nauseous as the ride dragged on. Gilbert only answered in clipped sentences. He could feel exhaustion lurking behind his eyelids, a steady reminder that he had abused Raven’s powers yet again. He kept his eyes wide open and fixed on the road, determined to keep going._

_The sun had nearly completed its journey through the sky by the time they arrived._

_They came upon a governess and two fair-haired children playing in the gardens. The older of the two was carrying a long butterfly net. Gilbert pulled at the reins, desperate to take a closer look…_

A small hand closed over Gilbert’s.

Just like that, he was back in Elliot’s bedroom. Silence was complete save for the wind against the windows. Leo had leaned over to pat his hand in polite inquiry:

“Are you okay?”

Gilbert nodded numbly. Looking over the child’s shoulder, he saw Elliot snoring gently against his pillow.

“He fell asleep,” Leo said, and threw a small, fond smile at his young master before turning back to Gilbert. “I’m not sure when. And you went all quiet. Are you sure you will be fine?”

Once again, Gilbert had trouble finding his voice. He glanced over at the window. The first hints of a bluish hue were appearing over the black trees in the horizon.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you.”

Leo looked unconvinced. Gilbert put on a reassuring smile for him.

“It’s getting late,” the man said as he tucked Elliot in and retrieved the plush rabbit from under his arm. “You should go back to sleep as well.”

Leo slid off the bed obediently and shivered at the loss of the blanket’s warmth. Gilbert made haste to fix Elliot’s sheets before escorting Leo back to the servants’ quarters.

“I still don’t believe you,” Leo said suddenly, so softly Gilbert wondered if he had imagined it. The man felt a pang to the chest all the same.

“I meant it when I said you were your own person,” he told the child. “Do you believe that, at least?”

Leo bit his lower lip. It was hard to tell whether it was out of frustration or mere confusion, but he looked lost. And so very young....

“I don’t know,” the child shook his head and started to pull at his hair. “I don’t know who to trust....”

“You can trust Elliot,” Gilbert told him earnestly.

Leo didn’t turn to look at him. He did stop scratching his head.

“That idiot?” Leo snickered, but there was no real bite in the word.

“He’s not an idiot. But…I worry about him,” Gilbert admitted. “And you are the only one he really listens to, so… please, look after him.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so distraught. Leo half-turned to glance at him. Despite the child’s best efforts to conceal it, Gilbert saw a slight smirk appear on his lips:

“He doesn’t really listen. But alright.”

They walked the rest of the way to Leo’s room in companionable silence. Gilbert felt a little lighter after their conversation, but his head was still buzzing with unpleasant memories and doubts.

Even now, he couldn’t be sure whether or not bringing Leo to Duke Nightray had been the right thing to do. The child was distrustful, and Gilbert didn’t blame him: he had gone straight from living in a small village with his single mother to serving one of the more influential families in the noble hierarchy, seemingly for no other reason than Vincent having taken a special liking to his mother.

In truth, Gilbert and Vincent had spent four years looking for him. Vincent himself didn’t know much about Leo’s past aside from the fact that he had been taken to the House of Fianna when he was fourteen. But Gilbert refused to wait, much less let the orphanage’s construction on Sablier’s ruins come to fruition. The two siblings had only agreed to cooperate with Duke Nightray and let him study Raven on the condition that he would stop his human experiments in the former capital.

That left them with little to no clues. In the end Gilbert and Vincent had had no choice but to search every village and rely on their own gift as Baskervilles: without the Sealing Stones to hinder them, they could follow the Abyss’ golden light to Glen Baskerville’s location.

But Leo was too young to lead the Baskervilles, and Gilbert worried constantly about the toll Glen’s spirit was taking on the child’s psyche. More than anything, Gilbert was scared of facing his former master: what would the previous Glens think of the current situation? Would they be satisfied with the _status quo_ the Baskervilles and Pandora had come to? Or would it only be seen as another betrayal?

Gilbert didn’t like to dwell on these thoughts. Instead, all year long, he had focused his attention on Elliot and his renewed friendship with Leo.

It was amazing how quickly the two of them had become inseparable. They had clashed on Leo’s first day at the manor and yet, to everyone’s bemusement, rather than have Leo and his mother fired, Elliot had insisted on keeping the child as a personal servant. Ever since, you hardly ever saw one without the other. Leo had gotten used to his new life, and his bad temper improved significantly. Thanks to his mother’s influence, he was also a lot more careful around noblemen. Gilbert suspected that only he and Vincent knew that Leo still argued with Elliot behind his masters’ backs.

Gilbert was startled out of his thoughts when his foot came in contact with something soft barring his way. Looking down, he barely contained a scream:

“Vincent!”

The form at his feet stirred, easing his worst fears. He crouched down to be level with his brother:

“What are you doing here?” Gilbert hissed. His heart was beating furiously from his near panic-attack.

“Waiting for Lord Leo,” Vincent answered. “I was keeping watch when he left his room, so I followed him, but as soon as I saw him with you, I knew you would bring him back safely. Therefore, I came back to my post.”

He got up, his limbs heavy from sleep, and bowed to the child:

“I must have fallen asleep. My apologies”

“What were you thinking?” Gilbert asked, too distressed to be bothered by the strange display. “What if something had…”

“Don’t worry, brother, no one would try to kill us inside the manor right after a failed attempt. Too obvious.”

Even in the dark, he could sense Vincent’s sardonic smile. He lowered his voice to an urgent whisper:

“Don’t say that in front of Leo!”

Vincent’s smirk only widened: “He is not as naïve as you think he is.”

Gilbert turned to the child, almost afraid of what he would find. Leo had shown no sign of surprise or fear when they had found Vincent’s prone body at his door.

The boy’s defences were back on: he had taken refuge in his silence. His quiet presence felt a lot more oppressive in the dark corridor, with Vincent’s cynical words still hanging in the air.

“I’m not sure the attack came from the Nightrays,” Gilbert protested weakly.

“I am,” Vincent replied.

“You can’t just assume things like that! And don’t drag Leo into this!”

Gilbert heard a low chuckle: “I am merely trying to learn from the past, brother. Or the future, as the case may be. My only wish is to protect our Lord.”

“Vincent, you…”

“Master Gilbert.”

The small nasal voice reduced him to silence. Leo sounded eerily calm. His obstructed face was unreadable as ever.

“I don’t mind,” Leo said. “It’s easier for me to keep an eye on Vincent like this, too. I don’t like it when he hangs around my mother.”

“What a low opinion you have of me, my Lord,” Vincent laughed approvingly.

“It’s not like that!” Gilbert said at the same moment. “Vincent is just pretending…”

“I still don’t like it,” Leo cut in on them. “But at least Vincent doesn’t lie to me,” he added in a lower voice.

Gilbert’s eyes widened, and suddenly it struck him: this uncanny complicity between the two, and how closely it resembled the way Leo and Vincent had fallen into their respective roles of master and servant after Elliot’s death.

“Were you the one who told Leo about his connection to the Baskervilles?” Gilbert asked his brother.

“He trusted you enough to tell you?” Vincent brightened up. “I’m delighted to hear that, Master.”

‘…Master?’

“I was just making sure that you were telling the truth,” Leo grumbled and ducked his head. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get up for work soon.”

“Of course,” Vincent stepped aside. “Sleep well, my Lord.”

With a mumbled “goodnight,” Leo disappeared in the darkness of his small room. The door closed with a soft final click. Gilbert’s gaze went from the door to Vincent, who had just straightened up from his bow. Gilbert was unable to find his voice.

The last person Vincent had called ‘Master’ had been Jack.

“Why did you tell him?” Gilbert asked.

“It will be easier to protect him if he knows,” Vincent answered easily. “Don’t you agree?”

“He’s just a child… He shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Kind as ever, my dear brother,” Vincent chuckled. “But I won’t let it get either of you killed.”

Gilbert shuddered. He hated it when Vincent used that tone. It wasn’t helping his suspicions any. He forced himself to ask:

“Why do you call him ‘Master’?”

Vincent didn’t answer right away. Gilbert was unable to see anything beyond the contours of his brother’s unruly hair; nothing that might clue him in on what Vincent was thinking. He was getting antsy, but didn’t dare break the silence.

When Vincent spoke at last, his voice had a strained quality to it:

“Because I made a vow to protect him.”

In spite of himself, Gilbert’s gaze drifted to Oz. That wasn’t the answer he had expected. It almost sounded like an accusation.

“I see you still carry that toy around.”

Gilbert bristled: “Don’t call him that.”

“That’s what he is.”

“You _know_ that’s not true,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, I don’t,” Vincent replied steadily. “And neither do you.”

“Stop that!” Gilbert snapped.

He could have punched Vincent. It was hard enough to deal with everyone’s disbelief on a daily basis, but for Vincent of all people to rub it in was simply too much. Gilbert knew that his brother was only being pragmatic about the situation, but he wouldn’t let him say such horrible things right in front of Oz.

“I will prove it to you,” Gilbert said. “And to the rest of the world.”

There was a beat. Gilbert still couldn’t see his brother’s expression.

“What if nothing happens at the ceremony?” Vincent asked.

Gilbert flinched. Vincent’s voice sounded even more strained as he asked that. It did nothing to alleviate Gilbert’s anger: Vincent was worried about him, not about Oz.

“I will keep searching,” he answered curtly. “For Oz’s sake.”

“What about _your_ sake?” Vincent jerked forward. He was still whispering, but the tension was building in his voice. “Don’t you think you have done more than enough? You have your master back!”

Gilbert’s eyes widened:

“You don’t mean…Leo?”

“He is our master,” Vincent insisted. “Right now you are doing everything you can for the Baskervilles. Isn’t that enough?”

The shock and anger in Gilbert’s chest blazed into white-hot fury:

“How could this be enough?” he said with a snarl. “Everything we have right now, this opportunity for the Baskervilles and Nightrays, Elliot being alive at all, _all of it_ is thanks to Oz!”

“He is _gone,_ ” Vincent said. “He never existed in the first place.”

Gilbert grabbed him by the collar. He was this close to slamming his brother against Leo’s door.

“Don’t say that,” he hissed. “Don’t you _dare._ ”

Vincent stayed silent for several seconds. Gilbert could hear nothing but his own laboured breathing. Oz’s weight against his left arm felt heavier somehow, like a quiet reminder that Gilbert shouldn’t be fighting in front of his master and friend. His grip loosened at the thought.

He heard a long sigh.

“All I am saying is that you should respect his wish,” Vincent said.

“What do you mean?” Gilbert asked in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“This is his real appearance, after all. And he can’t hurt anyone like this, while his powers still protect you and his dear Alice. He is probably happier this way.” Vincent’s voice deepened: “I know I would be.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened. So that was what this was really about. He sighed shakily, torn between anger and compassion.

“Don’t say you envy him,” he begged his brother. “It’s too awful.”

“Why?” Vincent sounded genuinely confused.

“Because Oz deserves to live!” Gilbert cried. He didn’t know how either of them had managed to keep their voices down for so long. “And so do you!”

“Do I?”

His brother’s tone was so sardonic it felt like acid on Gilbert’s skin. Vincent laughed on the other side of his face. His next words bore the weight of years and years of insatiable fatigue:

“You don’t understand, Gil. I don’t want to live. I used and killed many people in order to change the past… all for nothing. I hate myself. In the end, everything I tried only made you suffer more.”

Gilbert’s hand trembled against his brother’s collar. He could feel a beat there against his fingertips, slightly unsteady in Vincent’s jugular. His hand moved to his little brother’s shoulder, and he caught him in a tight hug. Vincent went rigid in his arms.

“I never hated you.”

His voice was rough. Gilbert had to clear his throat.

“We both did terrible things in the past,” he said. “I don’t know if we can ever make up for it. I don’t think a lifetime is enough. We took and lost so much....”

“You say that helping the Baskervilles is enough,” Gilbert went on softly. “But really, it’s all I can do. Sometimes I feel like I will go mad if I look back, so I just keep moving forward. The truth is, I’m terrified of what’s ahead. That history will just repeat itself.”

Saying his fears aloud made them easier to bear. Gilbert found himself breathing more evenly. His fingers brushed Oz’s cheek, pressed against Vincent’s back.

“You know, Vince… Oz never believed in fate. But I think I do. Since the both of us ended up in this place and time, we should take it as an opportunity to right everything we did wrong. With the information we have, maybe we can stop some of the deaths we caused.”

Vincent was trembling. Gilbert’s arms tightened around him:

“I know it’s selfish. I don’t want to force my own opinion upon you. But I’m glad that you came here with me. This time, I think we should carry this burden together. And even if you don’t want to… just having you here is enough for me. If I were the only one to know about the other future… about Oz… I couldn’t bear it.”

His brother was still unresponsive, quiet save for his heavy breathing on his shoulder.

“Please, don’t be afraid to rely on me,” Gilbert insisted. “Ask for help when you need it. You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. You’ve got me, Vince.”

“ _Let me go._ ”

Gilbert inched back, unnerved. Vincent’s voice was on the verge of breaking. From this close, he was able to glimpse his brother’s mismatched eyes boring into his, clouded in the bluish light of dawn.

“I will never have you.”

Gilbert couldn’t suppress a shudder. Vincent’s expression only darkened.

“Vince…”

His little brother put a shaking hand on his chest and pushed him away. Some bitter humour crept back into his voice when he spoke next:

“You worry too much, Gil,” he said, like the previous tension had never existed. “I did promise to keep you informed of my every move, didn’t I?”

“It’s not about that,” Gilbert protested. “I don’t want us to be strangers anymore!”

Vincent’s shoulders shook in the dark. From amusement or sadness, Gilbert couldn’t tell. Sometimes he wondered if his brother had ever felt anything but a sickening mix of both.

“You still have Miss Alice, don’t you?” Vincent tilted his head forward. “And your precious master.”

Gilbert’s fingers tightened around Oz. He hadn’t realized he had been clutching the rabbit to his chest. Vincent sighed:

“I hope you enjoy the ceremony.”

Gilbert bit his lip, helpless before his brother’s barriers. Five years of working together in this world, and the distance between them only seemed to grow.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked in desperation. “You were invited…”

“No thank you,” Vincent cut in. “The less I see of this girl, the better I’ll feel.”

His older brother raised an eyebrow. It had taken him a long time to realize that these recurring insinuations referred to Lady Ada, and to this day he couldn’t fathom what Vincent found so frightening about her. He could understand if it were her cats, but an eight years old child?

“I mean,” Vincent amended hastily. “Someone has to look after Lord Leo. Besides, Zwei will be with you; you’ll be fine.”

“How is she?” Gilbert asked carefully.

Vincent shrugged one shoulder:

“Calmer. Last I checked, she was still Echo.” He yawned. “Noise will probably show herself again before tomorrow night, but don’t worry, she’ll remember my instructions. Just handle her carefully, you know she can’t control herself very well.”

Gilbert gritted his teeth: “I wish you would stop talking of her like this....”

“My bad,” Vincent said with another shrug. His brother could hear a teasing smirk in his voice. Gilbert shook his head, aggravated, and turned away:

“I’ll see you tomorrow night. Please be careful.”

“Always, dear brother. Have a safe trip.”

* * *

 

When it was time for departure, Gilbert found Alice in front of the carriage, glaring at the harnessed horses, unmindful of the unnerved glances the groom and coachman kept sending her way.

“Will you be okay?” Gilbert asked her.

Alice turned to glare at him instead:

“I’m not scared, I just hate them!” she bit back. “They’re annoying, they’re uncomfortable, _and_ they’re not edible. It’s a good thing we have carriages or they would be useless on top of everything.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. Really, being uneasy around horses was nothing to be ashamed of, especially after Alice’s rocky introduction to equitation. However, she had lost interest in the animals before he could tell her as much, and trotted to him instead.

To Gilbert’s confusion, she bounced past him, her white boots clicking on the pristine marble stairs. Once she was standing three steps above him, she leaned over and bit his cheek.

“ _Alice!_ ”

He rubbed his aching cheek, fuming, words tumbling out of his mouth in an incoherent mess of reproaches. He thought they had been _over_ this, for Heaven’s sake, it had been _years_ since she had dropped this ridiculous habit, what had gotten into her all of a sudden…

“I know,” Alice cut him off. “And you’re depressed all the time anyway, but today it’s even worse. I had to try _something._ Biting worked on Oz once,” she said with a defensive huff.

Gilbert could only stare at her, his cheeks burning red. Alice looked away first, her gaze dropping to the rabbit in Gilbert’s arms.

“How are you feeling, Oz?”

He didn’t react. Alice sighed. She opened her arms and looked at Gilbert expectantly. With some reluctance, the man handed Oz to her. Before he could stop her, she bit into the plush cheek, too. Alice frowned, ignored Gilbert’s protests, and pecked the bite mark on Oz’s cheek.

“Still nervous,” she commented. “But it does help, you know,” she said to Gilbert.

The man grumbled. ‘I guess it’s the intention that counts, but _still._ ’

“I think it would help more if you just kissed him instead.”

Alice shook her head: “Biting works better. It keeps him awake.”

Gilbert looked at them both, his annoyance tempered by uncertainty. Alice looked no older than the day he had first met her as a wild Chain, dressed in the same white and red coat over her black skirt and silk ribbon – the same material the smaller ribbon around Oz’s neck was made of. Few people looked twice at her when they saw her holding Oz: just a little girl and her plush rabbit. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except the girl never aged, and the rabbit couldn’t be damaged. To Gilbert, seeing them like this was a constant reminder of their common past in Sablier, of the unbreakable bond between them. One Chain in three bodies. The shadow of the Blood-Stained Black Rabbit hovered over them constantly.

The man glanced over at the two servants near the carriage, and saw a reflection of that shadow on their distant faces. The man and boy bowed to him promptly. They had been serving the Nightrays for three years now, and had heard the rumours. No matter what Gilbert told them, they would always fear the three of Gilbert, Alice and Oz to some extent. He couldn’t really blame them.

“…Did Oz say anything?” Gilbert whispered to Alice.

She scrunched up her face in response:

“Ask him yourself.”

“You _know_ I can’t…”

But Alice just hopped past him with her head held high, clutching Oz against her. Gilbert felt a vicious pang of envy and resentment; the latter mostly towards himself.

The two of them were the Chain, and Gilbert was the contractor. If Alice really could understand Oz, why in Heavens _couldn’t he?_

Gilbert contained the urge to ruffle his hair in agitation and followed her to the carriage. The young groom made a hasty retreat while the coachman fiddled with the reins and inched away from the approaching man like his sour mood was contagious. Gilbert couldn’t even find the energy to reassure them.

The worst part was that he could never be certain that Oz could actually speak to Alice in this form. Gilbert knew that she was as desperate as he was to hear Oz’s voice again. Was what she heard only wishful thinking? The fruit of a child’s imagination? Alice was knocking on eighteen, but she had remained childish over the years. And didn’t Elliot and Lady Ada speak to Oz, too?

Was this all it was? Was it what Gilbert lacked?

Before boarding, he glanced at his reflection in the window glass of the carriage door. He met the face of a twenty-four years old man, neatly dressed for a party, black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail that he knew wouldn’t last the ride. Only his eyes gave a hint of his actual age: sunken and narrow. Haunted. Gilbert put on his old hat, and pulled it low over them.

Whether he considered himself twenty-nine or a hundred twenty-nine years old, he was well past childhood. Gilbert had long forgotten how to care for a toy so much it came to life and developed a personality of its own. He couldn’t remember whether he had ever been a child in this regard.

He sat opposite Alice and looked at her from under the brim of his hat. She was still pouting, looking every bit the petulant kid she was at heart. She started flicking Oz’s long ears to stave off boredom.

“Stop that,” Gilbert chastised her. “Don’t take advantage of the fact that Oz can’t say anything for himself.”

“He’s used to it. And he _does_ talk,” Alice grumbled. “You’re the one who never listens.”

“I don’t know how you do it!” Gilbert said, frustration building in his voice. It wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation. He knew he should be the adult and stop before he said anything he would regret, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not today. “It’s easy for you to say when you spent your childhood with Oz like this! Do you even want him to be human again?”

“Of course I do!”

“You could have fooled me!”

“I do! I want to dance with him again.”

Just like that, Gilbert’s bitterness left him. Alice stopped shouting as soon as he did. She still looked peeved, her skin flushed from their outburst, but not angry. She lifted Oz so he was at her eye level. She gave him a spin before catching him again. The rabbit was facing the wrong direction, looking at Gilbert with unmoving marble eyes.

“We can still dance now, of course,” Alice gave Oz another spin so he was facing her once more, “but I liked it better when Oz could move.”

Gilbert stared at her in puzzled wonder:

“That’s it?”

Alice settled Oz back on her lap and scowled up at the man: “Aren’t you the same?”

Gilbert flushed: “What? I can’t dance with Oz!”

“But you want to,” Alice said. “And you want to kiss and do a bunch of other things I don’t really get, but you don’t because it doesn’t feel the same when Oz looks like this…”

“ _Will you shut up?_ Where did you get such ideas?” Gilbert stammered in a high-pitched voice that sounded completely alien to him. His entire body was on fire, his head full of overheated steam.

She couldn’t know how right she was. She _couldn’t._

“Oz told me.”

Gilbert’s throat dried. Unable to form a coherent thought, he could only gape at Alice’s aloof expression. His gaze was drawn to Oz. The rabbit stayed motionless save for the light cahoots of the moving vehicle. Gilbert hadn’t even realized that they had departed.

“Why are you so surprised?” Alice asked, nonplussed. “I keep telling you: Oz can speak. And he always says you should stop acting like an idiot and live a little.”

These words wiped away Gilbert’s embarrassment like so much smoke, leaving a swirling confusion in its wake. Suddenly he could feel Oz’s chiding eyes on him. A part of him was afraid to look at the rabbit’s face.

_Even reproach is better than nothing,_ the ever-present voice nagged at him.

He looked down. Oz looked exactly the same. To his own surprise, Gilbert chuckled.

“He would say that, wouldn’t he?” he smiled ruefully.

Alice rolled her eyes: “You definitely need to listen to him more often.”

Gilbert found no answer to give her. His eyes bore into Oz’s marble ones, looking for a sign of life or acknowledgement of any kind – coming off with nothing.

The silence lingered, heavy and stifling in the small carriage. For lack of anything better, Gilbert opened a window in an attempt to make it more bearable. The whooshing cold wind and the loud clanging of the wheels against the road were violent intruders on their sullen mood, but Gilbert was willing to take any distraction.

Alice jumped at the opportunity to stick her head out the window and let her long hair fly in the strong draft. True to herself, she let the view and rocking motion distract her from her sulking. In a matter of minutes, they were back to their usual routine of questions and answers about the world rushing by.

Gilbert was more than willing to humour her. He only stole glances at Oz every now and again, and added bits of trivia that he thought the young man might like to hear: this village they passed had been included in the trading market after many weeks of negotiations; the villagers’ daily lives should get easier from this arrangement. That small town in the distance was in full preparation of a festival for the upcoming Winter Solstice…

Alice was only interested in the food the townspeople would serve and whether or not there would be meat. She still let Gilbert drift off topic from time to time, with a pointed look for the rabbit resting on her lap.

They mostly avoided the subject of the ceremony, until Alice pointed at a familiar farm in the distance.

“That one belongs to Oz’s family, right?”

Gilbert nodded: “That’s right.”

“So we’ll be there soon?”

“…Yes.”

Alice smiled and bounced Oz on her knees.

“Good. These trips always take _way_ too long. So when are we meeting the other Baskervilles?”

“Not until this evening,” Gilbert answered, a little surprised that she would bring it up. “Fang will be coming at the same time as the guests, along with Zwei. Zai Vessalius is still wary of the Baskervilles, so he will want to keep an eye on them.”

Gilbert, for his part, very much intended to keep an eye on Zai. But Alice was unbothered by the hint of hostility in his tone:

“What about my sister?”

That attenuated Gilbert’s blossoming anger. He smiled slightly:

“She’ll probably be the first guest to arrive. In any case, you’ll get plenty of time to catch up with her after the ceremony.”

Alice’s own smile brightened.

“Yeah, but the clown will be there too,” she said with a sudden grimace. “And it will be all about him _again._ ”

Gilbert couldn’t help but laugh at that, which only annoyed Alice further.

“She’ll still be happy to see you,” he told her. “So will Sharon.”

Alice gave a full body shudder, and her face gained a greenish colour:

“You’d better tell her I _don’t_ need her help to get dressed for the party.”

Gilbert winced a little in sympathy: “Don’t worry, she won’t be here until the ceremony starts. The Vessalius’ servants will be the ones to dress you.”

Normally, the both of them should have gotten dressed up before departing from the Nightray manor, but Gilbert knew better than to expect Alice to keep her party dress in order during their travel and the following afternoon at the Vessalius’. Not to mention…

The man tensed, his eyes locked on the window.

“What is it?” Alice followed his gaze. “Did you see something funny?”

“This is not the main road,” Gilbert said, careful to keep his tone neutral. The coachman couldn’t hear their words over the clattering wheels, but he might be able to pick a change of intonation.

“So? Maybe the coachman got lost or…” Alice paused when she saw her companion draw one of his guns. She gave him a wicked grin as she curled both hands around Oz: “Think it’s our welcoming committee?”

The seal on Gilbert’s chest itched as his heart beat in apprehension. Idly, he recalled the sarcasm in Vincent’s voice this morning: _“Have a safe trip.”_

“Get ready.”

The muzzle of his gun inched closer to the glazed front window as Gilbert reached for its lock with his free hand. Alice hopped to his side silently, and came to stand on the seat with her back to the wall on the opposite side of the small window. She had one hand wrapped around Oz, the other clutching the back of the seat for balance.

“Ready when you are.”

With a nod, Gilbert slid the window open:

“Stop the carriage.”

A whip cracked. The compartment shook as the horses picked up speed. Gilbert leaned on the window’s pane and threw his arm through the opening. He caught the coachman into a headlock and put his gun to his temple:

“I said,” Gilbert hissed into his ear, “ _stop._ ”

The coachman shook his head and let go of the reins. From this close, Gilbert was assaulted by the thick smell of perspiration and terror. He was unmoved:

“You’d better stop the carriage before we have to do it ourselves.”

“Too late for that, Seaweed Head,” Alice laid flat against the back of her seat and held on tight.

It was the only warning Gilbert got before the carriage came to an abrupt halt, knocking him off balance as his surroundings exploded into a chorus of grating wheels, panicked neighs, and the coachman’s long scream. Alice and Gilbert stood up as one, listening for incoming threats, but all the man could hear were the stamping hooves of the distressed horses outside. He nodded to Alice, gun at the ready, and kicked the door open.

The first things he noticed were the chains: they had burst out of the earth, tangled themselves into the wheels and pinned the carriage down, their thick metal glowing under the afternoon sun. They were unmistakably B-Rabbit’s.

“There _must_ have been a safer way to do that,” Gilbert hissed at Alice, still on the lookout. The little girl ignored him and sniffed:

“I can’t smell any Chains yet, but you should be careful, Raven.”

Gilbert stepped out and scanned their surroundings as he neared the coachman’s broken body. He had been thrown overboard by the sudden stop, right into a tree. He wasn’t moving. Gilbert knelt by him and kept his gun ready as he checked for a pulse. Nothing.

“I doubt he was working alone,” Gilbert whispered, a sick taste in his mouth. Vincent had been right after all. As he picked up the dead man’s gun, Gilbert’s eyes lingered on the coachman’s oddly small hands and the way his freckles stopped at his palms. It was disturbing, the way Gilbert only noticed details like this in death.

“There’s something in these woods,” Alice pointed her chin towards the thick forest the road led into. “He was probably supposed to take us there.”

Gilbert nodded and turned away from the corpse. Both guns at the ready, the man gazed from the trees ahead to the horses kicking at the floor and shaking their manes in distress. If there were ambushed attackers nearby, trying to get away on those horses would give them an opening. Alice and Gilbert could always fly away on Raven, but then…

“We need to find out who planned this attack,” Gilbert told Alice. The little girl gave him an eager look.

Before she could reach him, gunfire thundered in the fringe of the woods. Gilbert and Alice jumped apart and ran for the cover of the grounded carriage. Small rocks burst in their wake from bullet impacts. The horses reared up and kicked at the air with panicked neighing. Gilbert had to give them a wide berth when he bypassed their flailing hooves. Two bullets sank in his left side. The man only felt the flaring pain after he managed to duck behind the coach. He let out a ragged gasp as he leaned against the compartment.

“Oh, I’ll chop them up for this!” Alice shouted right next to his ear.

She was standing on the carriage’s front wheel, clutching Oz to her chest. She sank into a crouching position on her perch when the side windows started to crack from bullet impacts. The threat of flying broken glass didn’t stop her rambling, but Gilbert could hardly hear her obscure threats over the noise as he clutched at his bleeding stomach and tried to gather his strength.

“…are you _waiting for?_ ”

“In a minute,” Gilbert grumbled back. “You’re not going in there alone, give me a moment to heal…”

“Oz and I can take care of ourselves! You can just stay here and heal while we fight!”

“ _I said no!_ Be quiet!”

The window glass ended their argument when it shattered. Alice curled into a ball and Gilbert shielded her with his body. Shards of glass fell like hail on his head and back, clung to his hair and bit at the hand covering the nape of his neck. But his side wound was already closing. The man chanced a glance up, then let go of Alice and took off his left glove. Alice shook herself to get rid of the debris in her hair, and brandished Oz like a sword.

“Try not to kill them,” Gilbert said as he reached out with his left hand. “Remember, we need information.”

“I _know,_ just lift the seal already!”

Oz’s head was so small it disappeared from view when Gilbert rested his palm on his plush forehead, careful to circle the base of the rabbit’s ears with his fingers. The man’s thumb brushed against Oz’s cheek in silent apology. He pressed on, and a blue glow spread from his hand to the rabbit and the girl holding him.

Gilbert only got a glimpse of Alice’s elated grin, and then she was gone. All that was left were the long imprints in the ground of a huge rabbit before a leap.

The man burst into the open as soon as he heard the chains clang around the wheels. He ran alongside them as they uncoiled from under the carriage and struck at the nearest trees. Bullets bounced off their thick links in brief, ear-splitting screeches. Gilbert saw a gun disappear behind a nearby trunk and made a beeline for it. Suddenly, an avalanche of smoke cascaded towards him and a giant walrus emerged from it, barring his way.

The creature barely had time to open its tusks-armed jaws before the Black Rabbit fell from the sky and landed right on the creature’s nose. More thick smoke came out of the walrus’s mouth as it howled. Gilbert could barely make out the shapes of two other Chains in the spreading fog. The rabbit’s ears kept flicking in their direction, the movement followed by swift kicks that sent the Chains tumbling back.

The sinister cracks of falling trees mixed in with the roaring beasts. Gilbert kept running forward, intent on finding the walrus’ contractor so they could at least get rid of the smoke. When he got to the tree he had spotted earlier, his target was gone without a trace.

Gilbert leant his back on the trunk and looked round, gun raised. But it was impossible to make out anything but the brutal fighting of the Chains, and the fog was getting thicker by the second. Gilbert was ready to summon Raven so the bird could clear the area with a flap of its wings, when he felt something cold slide along his neck.

Gilbert tried to grab at the thing, but it was too fast. It slipped under his collar in a split second. The man heard the sound of shattering glass. Next thing he knew, a tiny lizard was crawling out of his clothes and down his body with his broken blood mirror in its mouth.

The creature sidestepped his gunshot and disappeared in the fog. Gilbert didn’t try to follow it. The tiny Chain would only lead him into a trap. However, if Gilbert didn’t move, the lizard would signal his position to its contractor.

With a mumbled curse, the man circled the tree he was leaning against and squinted his eyes, on the lookout for the next attack. A mighty gust shook the trees, nearly threw Gilbert off his feet, and sent the smoke whirling all around him. He heard the clanging of chains in the distance. Alice screamed.

Pulse racing, Gilbert ran in the direction of her screams with his left hand outstretched. The sounds of dragging chains and the rabbit’s thrashing and roaring were unrelenting. A horrible realization sank in. Gilbert had heard those sounds before: when Oz’s seal had been completed and dragged them all into the Abyss.

Gilbert pushed forward with a strength born of despair.

Over the chaos, he could hear the flapping of mighty wings. The smoke was blown away. In the middle of the carcasses of crushed trees, the Black Rabbit appeared, struggling against the long chains that snaked around its mighty limbs, dragging it down…

“ _No!_ ”

In a storm of blue fire and black feathers, Raven swooped down on the giant bird that B-Rabbit was fighting. Gilbert didn’t recognize it, barely heard the shocked screams all around the clearing. He just kept running towards the struggling rabbit. The chains binding it were already loosening their grip; the Black Rabbit broke free before Gilbert could reach it.

“Are you alright?” the man asked breathlessly.

Black fur and red fabric fell all around him with a great rumble, shielding him. He heard gunshots, and the Black Rabbit hissed in pain:

**“They have a Black Bird,”** Alice said through gritted teeth. Her voice was shaking from fear. **“They tried to…”**

“Calm down,” Gilbert tried not to let his own terror show. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

She shook herself and nodded: **“You can have the bird; I’ll take care of these Chains.”**

The Black Rabbit lashed out. From between its legs, Gilbert saw its spiked chains impale the giant walrus right in the mouth. The beast howled and crumbled to dust. What remained of the fog disappeared along with it. A human scream echoed the walrus’. In Gilbert’s periphery vision, a man clutched his chest and collapsed.

Gilbert turned towards Raven, just in time to see the giant bird it was battling: the creature was in the process of disappearing, called back by its contractor, but Gilbert saw the black wings and crooked beak right and clear.

It was the Gryphon.

Gilbert’s sight burnt red with rage. He was blind to everything but this fleeting vision.

**“Raven, they’re falling back!”**

Alice’s voice startled him. Relief flooded his chest and tempered his boiling blood. She was alright. Oz and her were both alright.

Raven shielded them with its chains, and Gilbert turned towards the giant rabbit. It was growling in frustration at the loss of its preys, hissing invectives through gritted sharp teeth. This was all Alice, Gilbert thought. Just like that, all his remaining anger turned to fear.

“Oz…” he whispered.

The rabbit started and turned towards him, its ears straight and attentive. It frowned.

**“Oz?”** the rabbit echoed. **“What is it?”**

With a pang, Gilbert realized that Alice wasn’t talking to him. She was speaking to Oz, the way she always did.

‘Oz must have seen the Gryphon too,’ he thought with growing horror.

The rabbit narrowed its eyes until they were reduced to two red slits:

**“There should be another carriage nearby.”** Its left ear tilted back. **“Yeah, I can hear horses this way. Three men are running in that direction. That leaves two of them on standby.”**

Gilbert’s heartbeat quickened at that: ‘Did Oz ask her to check…?’

He shook his head. There was no time to wonder about that. He knew what he had to do. Gilbert held out a hand to the rabbit:

“You can turn back now,” he whispered. “Raven will take us there.”

Alice groaned some more, but agreed. Gilbert let his hand linger on the Chain’s strong furry arm. He couldn’t help himself: his eyes searched the rabbit’s face desperately, looking for a hint of Oz’s feelings in its expressions, the way it moved… but all he could see was Alice.

With a shaking sigh, the man let go, and the rabbit shrank back into the girl he knew. Gilbert gasped when the weight on his chest was lifted; he had barely felt the pressure of his seal in the midst of battle. Oz’s innocuous plush face stared back at him from between Alice’s arms.

In a sorry attempt at comfort, Gilbert gave him a pat on the head. Alice gave him a jealous glare, so he petted her head too. She cheered up immediately.

Gilbert bowed to Raven, who grinned widely, blue flames licking the corners of its beak. The black bird lowered itself so Gilbert and Alice could climb on its back. Gunshots erupted from the carcasses of the trees, but Raven swept the bullets away like dust in the air, and took to the sky.

“What about them?” Alice glared down at the cowering men who had fired the shots.

“Let them be,” Gilbert said. “They’re only here to slow us down. We have to catch up with that carriage.”

Alice nodded. She leaned over Raven’s neck and marvelled at the view. Gilbert grabbed her by the scruff of her neck so she wouldn’t fall off, much to her protest. He didn’t spare her any more attention as he scanned the earth below for any signs of their attackers. However, the forest was thick in this part of the woods, and even as it swayed under the flapping of Raven’s giant wings, the canopy was hiding all travellers from view.

‘He thought this through, didn’t he?’ Gilbert seethed with renewed anger.

“There!” Alice pointed at a bunch of chestnut trees. “Horses!”

Gilbert could see them too: as the trees leaned forward against the gust of Raven’s wings, a carriage peeked from between the leaves, and vanished as quickly as it had appeared, covered by the waving foliage. With a mighty caw, Raven swooped up on the fleeing coach. In a mighty racket of creaking wood, its talons closed on the carriage roof.

“Put down your weapon,” Gilbert told the pallid coachman, who was fumbling with his holster. “We are only here to talk.”

“Do as he says,” came a deep, calm voice from within the carriage. Gilbert made a conscious effort not to draw his own gun and riddle the carriage side windows with bullet holes.

The coachman hesitated. He was still clenching the reins in one hand like his life depended on it, and didn’t seem to feel the pull of the terrified horses as they struggled against their restraints and tried to get away from the giant bird holding the carriage in place.

Amid the chaos, the right door of the carriage opened, and out walked Zai Vessalius. Composed as ever, the man got out one step at a time, walking cane in hand. He put its tip on the road, raised his head and met Gilbert’s glare with an even stare:

“What is the meaning of this, Raven?”

Gilbert was so outraged he couldn’t speak. He sank shaking fingers into Raven’s thick plumage. The feathers burnt his hands. They were like fuel for his blazing anger.

“You ambushed us,” Gilbert said in a low voice. He couldn’t tell his own words from the whispering flames in Raven’s bony beak and eye sockets.

“You are the one attacking,” Zai cut him off. “You’re not making any sense.”

“It was premeditated. You hired illegal contractors to do your dirty work. You made them break my blood mirror.”

“Your blood mirror was broken? How peculiar. Neither one of your Chains was affected, it would seem.”

Gilbert drew in a sharp breath. The air tasted dry.

“So you contracted them illegally,” Zai said after a lengthy pause. Even from this distance, his disgust was as conspicuous as the scar marring his nose and forehead. “I didn’t think you would be foolish enough to take that great a risk. Unless,” he added with a slow smirk, “this is another of the Baskervilles’ secret talents?”

The Raven answered with a smirk of its own. Alice shielded her face against the onslaught of heat. Gilbert didn’t bat an eyelid:

“You tried to kill us.”

Zai’s mocking smile only widened: “Where is your proof?”

“I saw the Gryphon! When Pandora hears of this…”

“It will be your word against mine. And you have an infamous tendency to spout nonsense, Raven. Or should I say, B-Rabbit?” Zai spat the codename like something foul.

“You won’t get away with it,” Gilbert growled. “You left too many witnesses this time. Pandora will learn everything it needs to know from interrogating them.”

“‘This time?’ Do you mean to accuse me of _other_ assassination attempts? Now you are bordering on paranoia.”

“That’s enough!” Gilbert shouted. “Turn this carriage around! We’re going back for your accomplices. Then we can be on our way.”

Zai frowned at that, his traits settling for the disapproving scowl Gilbert had always loathed. He cringed at the thought that Oz was witnessing all of this.

“You’ll make a fine impression,” Zai grumbled. “Taking a duke to his own home like some criminal. This will bring great improvement to the relationship between our two families, I’m sure.”

“Stop trying to buy time and get back in, Scarface!” Alice cut in.

The duke’s scowl further deepened as he turned to her. Without further ado, Alice jumped off Raven’s neck. With a panicked yell of her name, Gilbert leaned over and nearly fell trying to catch her. His eyes followed her as she fell feet first into a bush. She walked out of it covered in leaves and twigs, but looking unharmed. Gilbert shook with relief as he guided Raven back to the ground and dismounted.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Raven took to the sky in a rain of black feathers.

“Go back to the clearing,” Gilbert told the coachman, who cowered and threw a desperate look at Zai. The duke merely nodded, and boarded the carriage. Alice was already seated and keeping an eye on the remaining passenger as she dusted off her clothes.

“That one is the Lizard,” she told Gilbert when he got in after Zai. “The trace is faint, but I can still smell it on him. I can’t smell your blood though; I guess the Lizard ate the blood mirror. He can eat anything.”

Gilbert gave her a sombre nod. The contractor turned the colour of curdled milk and pulled his lips together to hold back a whimper. His eyes darted from Alice to Gilbert with a hunted look. Zai only shook his head at the sight:

“A right animal, that one,” he wrinkled his nose and sat as far away from Alice as the seat would allow. Alice ignored him in favour of picking twigs out of her messy hair. Gilbert turned a hateful glare towards Zai:

“I’ll talk to Lord Oscar and we’ll salvage what we can of the relationship between the Nightray and Vessalius families,” he said in response to the duke’s previous statement. “At least he has sense.”

Zai glared right back:

“Oscar is a fool. He would sooner lead his own family to ruin than see reason.”

“Don’t insult him! What are you even talking about?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about. Ever since you came out of the Abyss, you have done a remarkable job meddling in Pandora’s affairs. You assured yourself a place among the Nightray family by contracting Raven, but still bragged about being a Baskerville and having witnessed the Tragedy of Sablier. And of course, you claimed that your clan wasn’t directly responsible for it. A likely story.”

“Yes, you’ve always made it clear that you don’t believe me,” Gilbert clenched his fists. “And I never trusted you. But we’re still fellow Pandora agents. You had no right to attack us.”

Zai gave a scornful snicker:

“Pandora didn’t have much of a choice in recruiting you. With Raven as your Chain and all the helpful information you provided, you knew it was only a matter of time. But do you really think anyone at Headquarters actually trusts you?”

Gilbert held the man’s gaze steadily. Zai snorted:

“I doubt you’d be this naïve. You know how close Duke Nightray was to arrest you, the day you appeared. The only reason you maintain the _status quo_ with Pandora is because it is more convenient to you. At least for now. Much like your good friend the Hatter.”

“Leave Break out of this,” Gilbert hissed. “And what do you mean, ‘for now?’”

All trace of ill humour disappeared from Zai’s face. He watched Gilbert with a quizzical glare:

“You have big plans for the Baskervilles, don’t you, B-Rabbit?”

Gilbert was about to protest, but the duke stopped him with an imperious slam of his cane on the carriage floor. Zai put both hands on the handle. He leaned over, and his eyes glimmered a dangerous green:

“Whatever it is you are planning,” he murmured. “I won’t let you touch one hair on the heads of my children.”

Gilbert was so flabbergasted he forgot how to breathe. His head whipped towards Oz, who was sitting on Alice’s lap, covered in tiny bits of wood and leaves. As he looked from father to son – but Zai didn’t, would _never,_ acknowledge Oz as his son – Gilbert felt a fierce stab of sadness, its burn more painful than the seal on his chest.

“You don’t know _anything,_ ” he spat, eyes hot as he faced Zai once more. The defiant look didn’t waver from the duke’s face.

“I don’t care what you think of me,” Gilbert told him. “But you can be sure of one thing: for as long as I live, I will do everything in my power to protect the members of the Vessalius family.” He looked pointedly at Zai. “All of them.”

Zai raised an eyebrow at that. However, he was quick to recover from his surprise, and sniggered:

“Who would believe a madman?”

To this, Gilbert had no answer. He turned an apologetic gaze towards Oz. He wished his young master could tell him if he was doing the right thing.

Alice noticed his staring in the middle of untying a knot, and held out her plush rabbit wordlessly. Gilbert took Oz from her hands and sat him on his knee so that the rabbit had his back to Zai. Then Gilbert proceeded to clean Oz of the small debris on his skin and clothes, only keeping one wary eye on the road and the coach’s occupants as he brushed Oz with careful fingers.

Once or twice, Gilbert felt the seal pulse against his chest as Raven released small jets of flames in the distance; their carriage raised clouds of ashes as it rolled over the trees that the black bird had burnt to a cinder. It was odd, not to feel the cold metal of his empty blood mirror over his heated skin.

Gilbert sighed: Vincent had been the one to suggest that they keep their blood mirrors as decoys after making proper contracts with their respective Chains. That was how he had managed to keep Demios a secret from Pandora, after all. To this day, no one but them and Alice knew that the Dormouse wasn’t Vincent’s only Chain.

Vincent probably wouldn’t be happy to hear that Gilbert had been found out. It was only a matter of time now before the Baskervilles’ methods to contract their Chains were discovered. But at least Gilbert had come closer to unravelling the plot against the Black Rabbit:

It had been his own coachman, a servant of the Nightray household, who led them to Zai’s trap. Either the coachman had been a spy all along, or Zai Vessalius and Bernard Nightray had formed an alliance with the common goal of getting rid of Gilbert.

The Lizard’s contractor tensed visibly when Gilbert searched his pocket, but Gilbert only brushed his cigarette pack with his fingertips and fought off the urge to smoke his worries away; not while Oz was sitting right under his nose.

He knew full well which scenario was more likely: in the future Gilbert came from, Duke Nightray had been Zai’s alibi on Oz’s Coming of Age Ceremony. Vincent had confessed that he had been the one to introduce Bernard Nightray to the Baskervilles, whom Zai Vessalius had sought out on his own. It had only been Fang and Zwei at first, so they had no choice but to make an alliance with the two dukes and hide until they could find their missing companions and master. As for Zai, he had probably known Oz’s identity all along: back then, their common goal had been to send the Black Rabbit into the Abyss.

And that was exactly what Zai had just attempted.

Gilbert’s hands shook as he adjusted Oz’s bow after getting rid of the last twig. Of course Vincent had seen the attack coming. Even if the Black Rabbit no longer held the power to destroy the world, it was still an incredibly powerful Chain. Only one of the five Black Winged Birds could hope to defeat it.

Furthermore, there was the rumour from the archives: the rare witnesses who had come upon the wreckage of Sablier after the Tragedy claimed to have seen a monstrous rabbit.

Gilbert had been fighting that rumour since he had first heard of it: it was true that the Black Rabbit had caused the Tragedy of Sablier, but only because it had been unable to fight its contractor’s orders. More importantly, its powers were now sealed thanks to Oz’s sacrifice and the combined efforts of Alice and Raven. What remained of B-Rabbit’s powers was something Pandora could use, rather than a threat. Gilbert had agreed to help Pandora research the Abyss once again, and Alice along with him.

He had always refused to reveal the identity of Oz’s first contractor. Gilbert kept telling his fellow agents that it didn’t matter: the culprit of the Tragedy of Sablier was long dead, swallowed by the darkness of the Abyss along with the capital. Holding on to old grudges was meaningless when Pandora’s priority should be to restore a balance between the four Dukedoms and the Baskervilles, who were bound to return from the Abyss one by one.

Gilbert knew very well how suspicious his omission sounded. But he refused to discredit the Vessalius family by exposing the name of Jack Vessalius. The man had done enough damage as it was.

A great caw and gallop resounded in the distance. Gilbert straightened against his seat, eyes set on the horizon. Tree carcasses covered most of his vision, but he could see a cloud right ahead. When they emerged into the clearing, Raven appeared, looming over the main road like a living storm cloud. Two cavaliers were fleeing before the great bird, which edged the horses forward by clicking its mighty beak near their croups.

“Stop the car,” Gilbert told the coachman. This time, the man obeyed at once.

Gilbert made them all disembark so he could keep an eye on them as they waited for the two remaining attackers. The carriage he and Alice had arrived in was still there: it was missing its two rear wheels, its side was riddled with bullet holes, its window panes in pieces, and B-Rabbit’s chains had left deep lashes across the wood. Naturally, both horses had been taken.

The coach could be used as evidence, Gilbert mused as he told the coachman and the Lizard’s contractor to help him retrieve the two corpses and put them in the carriage. That would help ward off scavengers long enough for Pandora reinforcements to arrive. He paused when he laid the two bodies on the seats, and covered the men’s faces with their handkerchiefs.

Just then, the two missing cavaliers came barging in. Gilbert and Alice greeted them with drawn guns, and both men halted their horses on the spot. The animals were foaming at the mouth and shaking their manes, their eyes trained on Raven, who landed behind them heavily and spread its wings to break their escape. The air was thick with the smell of hot ashes.

“The two of you are coming with us,” Gilbert told the grey-faced cavaliers. “We’ll make a detour to Pandora Headquarters and drop you there.”

He was breathing heavily from the strain of Raven’s unleashed powers, but the men didn’t seem to notice as they nodded and begged him to call his Chain back. Gilbert waited until they had dismounted and Alice had taken all their weapons, then he let out a shuddering breath, and Raven vanished with a final hiss of blue fire.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, with the duke and his three accomplices in the carriage and Gilbert riding alongside it, gun in hand. Alice was riding side-saddle behind him and occasionally grumbled her discomfort, but kept her unloaded gun trained on the coach’s side window – she would sooner shoot herself in the foot than hit her target, but for someone so small, she could pull off a frightening look when she threatened someone with a weapon. The men behaved themselves.


	5. B-Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Previous chapter summary)
> 
> Oz’s plan to fix the time paradox by turning Jack into Lacie’s Chain had unexpected consequences: when Gilbert, Vincent, Alice and her twin made it out of the Abyss, they landed fifteen years in the past, and Oz turned back into a plush rabbit. Terrified at the idea that history will repeat itself, Gilbert struggles to reconcile the Four Great Dukedoms with the Baskervilles without revealing too much of the Tragedy of Sablier or the alternate future he comes from.
> 
> Five years have passed: Gilbert and Alice are headed for a certain party hosted by the Vessalius Household, but get attacked on their way there by Zai Vessalius, who suspects Gilbert of plotting against his family. Gilbert arrests the duke’s accomplices and takes them to Pandora Headquarters before proceeding to the ceremony with Zai. He hopes to salvage the relationship between the Nightrays and Vessalius with Oscar’s help – and that, on this particular day, something can be done about Oz’s predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally finished… Most of you had probably given up on me by now. I am truly sorry for making you wait so long, and I can’t express how grateful I am to all of you. Without your support, I definitely wouldn’t have come this far.
> 
> I originally planned on posting only four chapters, but there was simply too much to cover, and I wanted to make this story as good as I could, so I decided I should take my time. I hope it paid off in the end, and that you enjoyed the ride. I know I will miss these characters forevermore. Thank you for reading, a special thanks to reviewers, and to my sister for putting up with me! Your advice is always a huge help, sis.

The stop at Pandora Headquarters allowed Gilbert some time to clean the blood off his healed wounds and change his clothes before he escorted Zai to the party. Pandora gave Gilbert and Alice another carriage in compensation for the one lost in the attack, and six agents made the trip with them as bodyguards – here to protect them as much as to keep an eye on them, Gilbert knew. Whether the watch was intended for him or Zai, Gilbert welcomed their presence: the duke wouldn’t try anything in these conditions.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t relax completely until the familiar mansion came into view; only for the tension to be replaced with another anxiety: what would he say to Oscar? How would the duke react when he saw his brother?

Gilbert craned his head to look out the window, and saw that his carriage had distanced Zai’s: the second coach had yet to emerge from the woods. Gilbert frowned. What was the duke thinking?

“Finally!” Alice stretched and jumped to her feet. Gilbert grabbed her arm before she could open the door.

“Wait until the carriage stops,” he chastised her.

“Yes, I _know_ , stop babying me!” Alice grumbled without taking her hand off the handle. As soon as the vehicle stilled and Gilbert released his grip on her, she sprang outside like a devil out of its box. Gilbert fought off an amused smile as he fell into step behind her.

“Gil!”

Gilbert looked down in time to see a mop of blonde hair latch itself onto his leg with a delighted laugh. He froze in place upon spotting the white cat clinging to the child’s head. It took all his willpower not to unleash B-Rabbit’s powers on the creature.

“M-Miss Ada,” he stammered and held Oz like his life depended on it. “Could you please…”

“I told you that you shouldn’t bring Dinah, Ada,” came Oscar’s laughing voice. With a snap of the man’s fingers, the cat leapt off the little girl’s head. “My apologies, Gilbert, I couldn’t stop her in time. Our Ada was really eager to see you.”

Gilbert let out a shuddering breath: “It’s alright, Lord Oscar,” he said, although he had trouble taking his eyes off the cat as it rubbed itself against Oscar’s legs and mewed for attention. Small hands tugged at his trousers until he looked down at the beaming child in front of him. The sight of Ada’s sparkling green eyes warmed him to the core, and for a second he allowed himself to forget the little monster that trailed after her.

“Good morning, Miss Ada,” he smiled at the little girl and took a knee to be level with her. “I’m sorry for being late.”

Ada answered with a pleased blush and a clumsy curtsey. Oscar kissed Alice’s hand, and gave a hearty chuckle at her baffled splutter.

“And a good day to you, I’m glad you could make it,” a shadow passed over the bright green of his eyes. “I admit I was getting worried. Did you have a safe trip?”

Gilbert averted his eyes, and met Alice’s expectant look. He had forbidden her from speaking of what had happened, wary of her bluntness. Gilbert himself had no idea how to broach the subject, let alone in front of Ada.

The sight of the following carriage peeking out of the woods gave him the push he needed.

“We… met Duke Zai Vessalius on our way,” he whispered.

Oscar’s eyes became wide with worry. They darted to the approaching golden carriage, and back to Gilbert:

“What happened?” he asked in the same tone.

“…I’d rather discuss it in private. I’m afraid it’s serious.”

Oscar nodded slowly. He had gone pale:

“Whatever occurred, I’m relieved to see the both of you alright. I’m really sorry if…”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Gilbert said earnestly. “I know you had nothing to do with it. I really hope we can salvage the situation.”

Oscar smiled at that, even though his face had lost its sunny disposition.

“In that case, it’s for the best that you were the first to arrive. I need to have a word with my brother… The two of you should go ahead and make yourselves at home. I already gave the servants instructions to help Miss Alice get dressed for the party: you’ll find them in the Great Hall.”

He leaned over and whispered so only Gilbert could hear:

“After you’ve dropped her there, head over to my study: it’s on the first floor, the third door to your left. I’ll meet you there after I’ve talked with Zai.”

Gilbert nodded solemnly and turned a worried gaze towards Ada. But the little girl was oblivious to the dark tone the conversation had taken: she had her eyes fixed on the plush rabbit Gilbert was still holding.

“Oz was impatient to see you, too, Miss Ada,” he told her with a smile.

Ada welcomed the rabbit with a huge smile and a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, big brother!” she chirped, and hearing it sent a wave of warmth through Gilbert’s chest. “Gil, can I give him his gift now?”

“Oz needs to stay with Miss Alice,” Oscar told his niece. “So why don’t you escort our guests to the tailors, Ada? You can make your gift there.”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically. Gilbert bowed to Lord Oscar and let Ada take him by the hand to the old mansion where every Coming of Age Ceremony was held. He couldn’t help sending a few worried glances back, but Ada was surprisingly fast for such a small girl, and they were at the door before Zai’s carriage reached Oscar. Gilbert had to take his eyes away to greet the Vessalius servants properly.

Alice was used to Gilbert entrusting her to tailors before attending a party, and put up less of a fight than usual. From the furtive glances she kept sending him, he had the ill suspicion that she was trying to preserve him after the fight. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and turned to leave, only to be blocked by Ada, who was standing at the doorway and worrying her lips. Just like that, his smile no longer felt forced:

“I won’t be long, Miss Ada. There is just a small matter your uncle told me to take care of. I’ll leave Oz and Alice with you for now,” he took off his hat and put it on the little girl’s head. “Will you hold onto this for me?”

It always warmed his heart to see the way the old hat fell over Ada’s eyes and the stark contrast it made with the light blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She tilted it back until the brims covered the nape of her neck, and her thick fringe kept the hat in place atop her head. She grinned up at him, nodded, and took Oz to a low table covered with freshly cut flowers. Gilbert’s smile widened. He had a pretty good idea what Ada’s gift to her brother was going to be.

An uncomfortable mix of nostalgia and dread constricted Gilbert’s heart as he climbed the stairs to Oscar’s study. Everything from the rich curtains to the spotless carpeting looked exactly like the day of Oz’s fifteenth birthday, before the mansion had been abandoned and become a research subject for Pandora. Gilbert could still hear Oz’s muffled laughter in every wardrobe. The absence of the plush rabbit at his side made the phantom noise all the more haunting. Gilbert hurried on.

“ _Wait!_ ”

Gilbert turned round and almost collided with a storm of white silk and blonde hair. The party dress made an emergency landing before it could crash into him. Gilbert was almost thrown off balance when two hands emerged from its floating folds and clasped his arm. His hand flew to his holster.

He stopped his movement when he recognized the young woman trying to catch her breath.

“Are you alright?” she heaved. “What about Miss Alice?”

“We…are both fine,” Gilbert stuttered. He looked her over with concern. “What’s the matter, Lady Lorina?”

Zai’s eldest daughter raised her head to meet his gaze. Her blonde curls had been sent in disarray by her race through the corridors, and her red eyes were shining with anxiety behind her oval glasses as they looked from Gilbert to the great windows lining the walls. The man followed her gaze to the front garden outside. In the distance, he could see Oscar talking animatedly with his brother.

“I…”

Lorina suddenly released her grip and set about smoothing her ruffled party dress with hasty pats. She straightened her back and fixed him with a determined stare:

“I wish to speak to you. Do you have a moment?”

Gilbert looked from the door to the young woman barring his way. In spite of the abrupt change in attitude, her heavy breathing and dishevelled hair betrayed her distress.

“That is to say,” he mirrored her stiff formality in his bemusement, “Lord Oscar asked to see me in his study…”

“Good. Let’s wait for him inside.”

Before Gilbert could think to stop her, she opened the door and preceded him into the study, where she set to opening the great curtains. She left the thin white curtains underneath drawn, so that the light could filter while the gardens remained obscured from view. Her moves were smooth, but her shoulders were tense.

“Isn’t your chaperon with you?” Gilbert asked her with mounting confusion.

“About that…” Lorina averted her eyes: “Could you please close the door? I would like to speak to you before Mrs Kate finds me. In private,” she added quickly.

Gilbert obeyed reluctantly, torn between mild exasperation and reluctant amusement. It was far from unusual for Lorina to avoid her governess: she had been a master of Hide-and-Seek for as long as Gilbert had known her, and liked nothing more than to demonstrate that skill. But he had hoped that the young heiress would have the decency to spare Mrs Kate’s nerves on the day of her Coming of Age Ceremony.

“She must be worried,” Gilbert kept his tone neutral. As of today, Lorina was no longer a child: he had no authority to chastise her on how she treated her servants. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t voice any misgivings.

“It’s important,” she said with a defensive huff completely at odds with her formal attire. Gilbert found the slip reassuring in its familiarity.

“I’m listening,” he said with a prudent nod.

Lorina’s eyes lingered on the windows. Her high heels clicked on the parquet floor as she turned to face him:

“I saw Father arrive shortly after you on the main road. And pardon me, but I couldn’t help noticing that you were late. If you don’t mind me asking, did anything happen during your trip?”

Gilbert tensed up. Lorina was watching him expectantly, her posture as stiff as her polite words. Suddenly her little escapade made a lot more sense: she was scared. Scared for him and her father, or scared _of_ them, Gilbert couldn’t tell. He never could.

He felt trapped.

“…Everything is fine,” he fought off the urge to open the door and bolt. “Alice and your father are both alright. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Lorina’s shoulders were growing so stiff it was starting to look painful: “You are avoiding the question.”

Gilbert had to look away: “No. Nothing happened.”

“You’re lying.”

It felt more tempting to run away with every second. Gilbert’s head was reeling. Could it be? Had Zai informed his daughter of his planned attack? No, impossible. Lorina would have warned Oscar about the plan. Zai would never take such a risk in the first place.

His silence proved too long:

“…Were you attacked?”

Gilbert gulped. He couldn’t deny it to her face. But he refused to accuse her father in front of her. She was barely out of childhood, just about to enter noble society. Gilbert wanted to keep her from its twisted plots and schemes for as long as possible.

He saw a possible escape in the phrasing of her question. Lorina hadn’t asked who his attacker had been, had she?

“It is a matter I need to discuss with your uncle and father,” Gilbert said. “We will need Pandora’s help in order to identify the culprit.”

Lorina went deathly pale:

“…I see,” her voice trembled. “I knew it....”

Gilbert hoped that she would leave it at that. This hope was crushed when Lorina raised her chin to meet his gaze head on:

“You think my father ordered this attack, don’t you? That’s why you’re trying to keep it from me.”

Gilbert stammered an inarticulate series of denials that sounded weak to his own ears. Lorina’s eyes were wide and accusing behind the magnifying glass. She looked very young.

“You are a terrible liar. You always were,” she whispered. She had given up all pretence of politeness or neutrality. “Everybody knows that my father and you hate each other.”

There was no point in denying any of these statements.

“That wouldn’t warrant an attack!” Gilbert said instead.

Lorina flinched and ducked her head. Unruly curls of blonde hair came to obscure her face:

“…Didn’t my father say anything to you?”

Gilbert felt at a loss. He was still fearful of what she knew and her possible reactions to the truth, but mostly confused:

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said at last.

There was a short silence. Lorina’s eyes were set on the waving curtains, but Gilbert could see the fear in them. When she spoke next, her voice was so small he barely heard the words:

“It’s because of the ceremony, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The Coming of Age Ceremony,” she whipped her head back towards him. “You warned Pandora that something might happen today, didn’t you?”

“How did you know…?”

“I suspected,” she said, and Gilbert cursed himself for falling for such an old trick. “My father kept telling me to stay away from you, that you must be planning something, that… he wouldn’t let you have your way,” she bit her lower lip. “So when he said he might be late to the ceremony because he had to work, I....”

Lorina fisted the front of her white dress. Gilbert remembered Zai’s final warning, and the motive of the attack dawned on him.

She was right: Gilbert had told Pandora about the Silent Clock starting again on Oz’s Coming of Age Ceremony and the passage to the Abyss opening. Pandora had agreed to reinforce security at the estate for the day, even though Gilbert knew that few of the agents actually believed his prediction.

Zai had been the one who had argued most against Gilbert and his fellow Baskervilles attending the party. The duke suspected that Gilbert was using a false prediction as a pretext, and was actually plotting against the Vessalius Household. Whatever he imagined, Zai probably really thought he was protecting his family. Gilbert clenched his fists. To think that, in another future, Zai had been the one to tear his family apart by throwing Oz into the Abyss. Had he given his son a chance, everything could have been avoided.

The steady burn of Gilbert’s hatred was tempered by sympathy as he watched Lorina. Even when he actually tried to care for them, Zai kept hurting his relatives.

“Your father loves you,” Gilbert told Lorina. The words had a hard time coming out of his mouth, but he knew them to be true, and the lass needed to hear them. “It’s only natural that he worries about you."

She kept staring at the sunlit curtains with a bitter wistfulness. When she turned back to him, there was reproach in her gaze:

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

Guilt nagged at Gilbert, but he refused to give in:

“You know I have a risky job. I can’t tell you much about Pandora’s investigations…”

“That’s about to change.”

Lorina raised her chin defiantly:

“This is what I originally wanted to tell you. I’ve made up my mind: I am going to assist my father as a Vessalius representative at Pandora Headquarters.”

Gilbert’s stomach sank: “You…are going to work with Pandora?”

“I was going to no matter what,” Lorina said. Her tone was stiff again, like a well-reversed text. “I’m not a child anymore, and it’s my duty as a member of the peerage to ensure that our world is safe from the Abyss. All I’m going to do is relinquish my title of heiress to the Vessalius dukedom.”

“Lady Lorina, you need to think carefully about this,” Gilbert cut in, frantic in spite of himself. “As you said, all noblemen and women from the four great dukedoms are involved in Pandora’s research on the Abyss. Every heir is well protected and rarely does dangerous missions, even if they are privy to them. But if you ask for the position of representative, you will have to contract a Chain and fight. You will be risking your life!”

“Isn’t that what you and my father have been doing all these years?”

That stopped Gilbert in his tracks. Lorina looked determined and pleading at the same time. It was a disarming expression; one Gilbert was painfully familiar with: he could never refuse Elliot or Alice anything when they gave him that look.

“I want to understand,” she went on. “I want to know what Father is so afraid of. I want to help him.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened. Afraid? He had never thought to associate this word with Zai Vessalius. Even now, it was impossible to reconcile the idea with the cruel, ruthless traitor he had always hated. Lorina was making a mistake, Gilbert was certain of it, yet he could find no words to dissuade her.

And what right did he have to question her choice? Zai was her father. Now that she had come of age, of course she wanted to step up for him instead of being protected.

The thought filled Gilbert with nostalgia. He remembered the child who chased butterflies in the Vessalius gardens with her sister in tow, and the proud way she showed off her collection of feathers. His gaze flicked from her unruly blonde curls to the tiny emerald and crossed white wings pinned to the hem of her party dress. Gilbert recalled the replicas of the Vessalius crest she used to craft and wear in her hair, to the eternal dismay of the servants. Looking at Lorina now felt like looking the past five years right in the eye.

“Are you sure?” he asked, unable to keep the fear from his voice.

“Certain.”

“Have you talked to Lord Oscar about this?”

“No, not yet,” Lorina suddenly sounded meek. “Not even Father knows.”

“What?” Gilbert started. Only then did the incongruity of this conversation really strike him. “You mean… But why would you tell me first?”

“Well,” the lass drawled, and wrung her hands. “There’s something I need to ask you…”

She shook her head. “No. First… There’s something you should know.”

All trace of her previous bravado was gone. Gilbert waited silently for her to elaborate. Lorina took a deep breath and raised her head to face him once more:

“Do you remember the day you first came to our house? Riding bareback on that black horse with blood on your clothes?”

Gilbert flinched. He remembered that day all too well.

“You really scared me then,” Lorina said. “After you were arrested, when my uncle agreed to talk to you in private, I thought he had lost his mind. I was sure you were going to attack him. So…”

She gulped:

“I hid in my uncle’s study. I thought that, if anything happened, I could scream for the servants,” she said in a rush, like she was expecting to be scolded and wanted to get the admission out of the way as fast as possible. Her voice quieted with her last words: “I heard everything you told him.”

Gilbert blanched:

“Please tell me you didn’t tell anyone,” he took a shaking step forward. Lorina stepped back:

“No. I never told anyone,” she shook her head. “I didn’t understand most of it anyway… It was the first time I’d seen a grown man cry. I thought you were mad.”

She threw him an apologetic look over her oval glasses; it looked like four bright eyes peering up at him. Gilbert didn’t know how to react. Lorina ducked her head:

“But then, you kept coming back. And you started to tell Ada and I stories… Stories about Oz Vessalius."

The name woke Gilbert from his befuddlement. He smiled sadly:

“You never believed them, did you?”

“I… That’s not the point,” Lorina struggled with her words: “I didn’t know what to think at first. Father said you must be mad, and for the longest time, that’s what I thought, but....”

Gilbert sighed: “I don’t blame either of you for being suspicious of me, really…”

“ _Me?_ ” Lorina gaped at him in disbelief. “You think _I_ suspect you?”

Gilbert blinked, taken aback by her outburst. A dark blush rose on Lorina’s cheeks, and she bit her lips to fight off her growing embarrassment.

“…I wouldn’t ask to talk to you in private if I didn’t trust you,” she mumbled. “Let me finish. Please,” she amended.

Her glasses had gone askew. In the time it took Lorina to right them on her nose, the colour on her face subsided a little.

“I admit it, I used to be scared of you,” she said in a clipped tone. “But I stopped avoiding you after a while, didn’t I?”

Gilbert wasn’t sure whether or not the question was rhetorical, but thought it best not to interrupt. However, now that he thought about it, he did remember an incident two years prior that had changed Lorina’s attitude towards him completely:

The young girl had been playing Hide and Seek with Ada, but she hadn’t reappeared at dinnertime as usual. That had whipped Mrs Kate up into a frenzy. Soon, the entire staff was looking for the missing child. The situation had been way too similar to the day Oz had almost been kidnapped, and Gilbert had made haste to join in the search party.

He had been the one to find her: Lorina had accidentally locked herself in the aviary. Gilbert had been so relieved that he had readily agreed to keep quiet about it, and helped her to get rid of all the feathers on her dress so her favourite hiding place could stay a secret. Lorina had been a lot friendlier during Gilbert’s following visits.

“I couldn’t bring myself to hate you,” Lorina went on. “Everybody says that the Nightrays are cunning and hate the Vessalius family, but you were always kind to us. Father says you’re only pretending, but… it doesn’t add up. If you were really trying to trick us, why would you make up stories about sentient rabbits? I just… I didn’t get it.”

Gilbert nodded, feeling intrigued and anxious. Lorina was still avoiding his eyes, but his silence encouraged her to continue:

“In the end, it was Uncle Oscar who helped me understand. Once, I asked him why he trusted you. He couldn’t answer with the whole truth, of course, but he did tell me that you had the means to ruin our family, but never used them.”

She found the will to lock gazes with him once more:

“He was referring to Jack Vessalius, wasn’t he?”

Gilbert’s breath hitched. He took another step:

“You must promise to never reveal this. To anyone.”

But Lorina didn’t back away this time. She turned towards him fully, with both hands clenched into fists:

“Why do you go so far for us? You’re one of the Baskervilles; the Nightrays are the ones who adopted you, and they are the ones who get blamed for the Tragedy of Sablier! Shouldn’t you be helping them instead?”

“That’s what I am trying to do! But I can’t change a century worth of history, or what’s already happened. It’s the present that matters.” Gilbert took a steadying breath. There was no point in arguing with Lorina. She was only trying to understand. He went on in a calmer voice:

“I don’t want to take sides. I just want the Four Great Dukedoms and the Baskervilles to find a new balance. That’s why I won’t discredit any of them.”

“But you’re discrediting yourself instead! Don’t you see?” Lorina snapped. “Do you have any idea what people say behind your back? They call you an usurper and a conspirator; those who don’t fear you call you a useless fool or a lunatic!”

Gilbert grimaced and thought of Break: “I’m used to that.”

“Don’t say that! How could anyone get used to that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Not as long as they acknowledge the problems I’m warning them against.”

Lorina shook her head vehemently: “They mock you for being in love with a plush rabbit!”

In spite of her serious tone, Gilbert couldn’t help but chuckle:

“Well, that much is true. I do love Oz.”

That stopped Lorina in her tracks. She stared at him with her mouth hanging open. Gilbert’s smile only widened. He always felt a little embarrassed to say it out loud, but it wasn’t something he had any trouble admitting to anymore: Oz had accepted his feelings, and that was all that mattered.

“Even…like this?” Lorina asked breathlessly.

A warm, painful bubble of tenderness expanded in Gilbert’s chest at the thought of the small rabbit he had left in Ada’s care. “Yes,” he answered in a soft voice.

It was hard to remember a time when he _hadn’t_ loved Oz. It was as natural as breathing to him by now.

“I…see,” Lorina said. She was still looking at him with her eyes as big as saucers. Her hands trembled when she steadied her glasses on her nose for the second time. Gilbert only got a glimpse of the deep unease in her eyes. “Actually, I… That is… There’s something I need to ask.”

Gilbert waited for the other shoe to drop. He was well aware that his admission might have confirmed the heiress’ worst suspicions about his sanity. That would also mean the end of the good understanding between them. The thought saddened him greatly.

“Do you hate me?” she asked in a small voice.

Gilbert started: “Sorry?”

Lorina scowled so deeply her eyebrows nearly met the base of her glasses.

“Don’t make me say it again,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Why in the world would I hate you?”

“Because of him! Oz Vessalius!” she massaged her forehead so she didn’t have to look at him. “Because I took his place!”

Gilbert was flabbergasted. The silence seemed to unnerve Lorina this time, and she kept speaking in a drawl:

“In the future you came from… I didn’t exist, did I? That’s the first thing I noticed when you told Uncle Oscar about your world. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I thought you must…” she bit her lip. “You think I took Oz Vessalius’ place, don’t you?”

It took several seconds for Gilbert to find his voice again. In the meantime, Lorina’s appearance had deflated completely: she was hunching her shoulders as if bracing for a strike. Gilbert felt an overwhelming urge to pat her head, but she inched back as soon as he made to approach. He resolved to keep his distance, and offered her a smile instead.

“How could you take his place when he already exists?” his voice was quiet from incredulity. “Oz travelled with us to this time. It wouldn’t have made sense if he had been in two places simultaneously, would it?”

“But according to you, he should be the Vessalius heir,” Lorina said, and Gilbert could hear a hint of reproach in her voice.

Gilbert shook his head: “Oz never cared much about titles. He loves his family dearly. I may be unable to speak with him now, but I know he must be delighted to have another sister.”

It was Lorina’s turn to watch him in disbelief. She was faster to recover, and her face settled into a scowl:

“What about you, then? What do you think of me?”

The door banged open.

Gilbert turned round and came face to face with Oscar Vessalius, who raised an imperious hand and yelled: “Objection!”

Gilbert had barely recovered from the shock when Oscar slammed the door shut and marched to him with a dangerous glint in his bespectacled eyes:

“What do you think you’re doing, taking my niece from her chaperon and leading her astray, hmm?”

Gilbert backed away, too shaken to make sense of the accusation.

“Uncle Oscar!” Lorina spluttered, her eyes wide with horror. Her entire face had turned an impressive shade of red. “How long have you been here?”

Oscar turned to his niece with a wide grin: “Oh, long enough. I think I heard something about you hiding in my study to make your own inquiries five years ago. Ina,” he tut-ted, “what did I tell you about eavesdropping on private conversations?”

“ _You just did!_ ”

“Drastic circumstances call for drastic measures,” Oscar said sagely. “I had to step in and protect your virtue…”

“ _Nothing happened!_ ”

Gilbert was keenly reminded of the day the duke had infiltrated Lutwidge Academy to ask Ada about her letter – not only had Gilbert been attacked by her dreadful cats, but Oz and Oscar had been ready to hunt him down on top of everything.

“We just bumped into each other,” he said in a feeble voice. “Lady Lorina wanted to speak to me, that’s all.”

Oscar looked from one to the other with a suspicious rumble of his throat. Lorina was making valiant efforts to disappear behind her hair. Gilbert himself felt a renewed urge to bolt out of the door. At long last, the duke heaved a dramatic sigh.

“That won’t help Zai’s opinion of Gilbert, you know,” Oscar told Lorina in a scolding tone. “Especially when he thinks that Gilbert intends to strengthen his status by marrying you.”

“ _What?_ ” Gilbert cried, scandalized. “What in the… Is _that_ what Zai told you?”

He forgot to add the proper honorific in his shock, but Oscar didn’t comment on it: he only nodded mutely. Gilbert gaped like a fish out of water and looked from the duke to Lorina in quick succession, unable to come to terms with the enormity of Zai’s suspicions.

Lorina scowled and avoided his gaze.

“Yes, well,” she grumbled. “It’s not like it’s ever going to happen.”

“Of course not!” Gilbert chimed in. “I would never do that!”

Lorina cringed:

“Right....”

Gilbert was taken aback by her clipped words and the strange mix of relief and compassion on Oscar’s face as he looked from Gilbert to his niece. The lass slowly raised her head and gave Gilbert an ironic smile:

“Still. We both want the relationship between our two families to improve, right? Marriage is obviously out of the question, but…” she cleared her throat, suddenly uneasy. “…Would you open the ball with me this evening?”

“Oh,” Gilbert blinked, unsure how to respond.

It was true that it would have a strong symbolic impact if the Vessalius heiress opened her Coming of Age Ceremony by dancing with a Nightray, but that would undoubtedly make her the object of a lot of gossip… especially, Gilbert thought with a wince, if Zai wasn’t the only one to suspect that Gilbert intended to marry her. Furthermore, Lorina’s expression and odd behaviour concerned him.

“I would be glad to, Lady Lorina,” he said hesitantly, “but…”

“You really _are_ trying to upset your father, aren’t you?” Oscar asked after a curt, light-hearted laugh.

In spite of the duke’s teasing tone, Gilbert heard a hint of his own worry in Oscar’s voice.

“I am not,” Lorina said. “I just want to make it clear that our opinions diverge on this matter. If Father and I are going to work together, we might as well get those differences out of the way as soon as possible.”

Oscar frowned: “‘Work together?’”

Lorina started: “Oh. You…hadn’t heard that part?”

Her eyes wandered for a second. Gilbert tried to guess when Oscar had started eavesdropping, heart thumping with growing anxiety. Lorina recovered faster than he did, and fixed her uncle with her previous determination restored:

“I suppose this is as good a time as any to tell you about my plans, Uncle Oscar: I am going to be a Pandora Representative.”

Oscar’s frown deepened:

“You are serious about this…”

“I figured it was the only way Father would stop hiding everything and trying to shelter me ‘for my own good,’” she said defiantly. Gilbert had half a mind to scold her for her straightforwardness; although he knew it wasn’t his place. “And this way, Ada won’t have to make the choice.”

The duke visibly flinched at the mention of Ada. Gilbert felt all the more improper for witnessing this exchange and Oscar’s obvious worry at the thought of either of his nieces being exposed to danger. To his surprise, Oscar smiled:

“I hope this is not just a part of your plan to claim ownership of the Griffon?”

Lorina flushed: “ _What?_ Of course not!”

“I know how eager you are to fly away on a Black Winged Bird of your own…”

“Uncle Oscar!” Lorina threw an alarmed look at Gilbert and shushed Oscar with an urgent hiss.

“…but even if you do become a representative straight away,” Oscar went on unperturbed, “you will still have to wait until Zai retires before you can attempt to make a pact with it…”

“Yes, I know, this is not…”

“And it will depend whether or not the Griffon accepts you…”

“I _know_ …”

“In fact, Pandora will have to check whether or not you are qualified to be a contractor first. Me, for instance…”

“ _I know, Uncle Oscar,_ and _no,_ this is not the only reason!”

She put a hand to her mouth when she realized her slip-up, and gave her uncle a mortified glare. Her face was as red as her eyes by now. Oscar laughed good-naturedly:

“There, there, Ina, I’m just teasing.” A sombre look clouded his smile: “This is your choice, and I won’t stop you. But please discuss it with Zai first. Like you said, no matter what happens, from today on, the two of you will be colleagues: you need to tell him that you want to work with him, not against him.”

Lorina’s eyes widened. Her embarrassed flush had erased all trace of her defiance. Still half hiding behind her hand, she looked hesitant and vulnerable as she glanced over at Gilbert:

“…But what if he asks me to choose?”

Oscar’s paternal smile was as comforting as Gilbert remembered it. The warm compassion in his eyes was as much reassurance as the light-hearted humour in his voice:

“I think you already know the answer to that question, or you wouldn’t have asked Gilbert to the ball. Right in front of me,” the duke added with a note of reproach.

Lorina had a hiccup of laughter, which she covered up with a cough. When she removed her hand, the ironic smile from before was back on her lips:

“Father attacked two of my guests on the day of my Coming of Age Ceremony. Dancing with a member of an old rival family can’t be that big of an offense compared to _that_.”

Oscar turned round with an alarmed look:

“Gilbert, what…”

“I told you, Lady Lorina, it wasn’t…” Gilbert said at the same time.

“He wouldn’t tell me anything about the attack, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Lorina told her uncle before either of them could go on. “I would appreciate it if the two of you could inform me of these things from now on. I will be your colleague too, after all.”

Both men looked at her with twin expressions of befuddlement, and she visibly struggled to hold both of their gazes. At last Oscar shook his head with a weary smile, breaking the spell. Gilbert rubbed the back of his head self-consciously.

Lorina was right. And after what Zai did, Oscar and he would need all the help they could get to fix the situation.

“Alright, Lady Lorina,” Gilbert told her. “I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark.”

She let her guard down after that. The red of her irises became more pronounced with her wide-eyed anxiety:

“My father really attacked you and Miss Alice, didn’t he?”

Gilbert hesitated. He glanced over at Oscar, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod. His expression was dismal, but resigned.

“…Yes.”

Lorina shivered:

“I see… Thank you for telling me.”

Silence stretched as both men let her process the truth. Suspecting her father was one thing, but having his guilt confirmed was another matter entirely.

“What can we do?” she asked them in a small voice.

“We don’t really have a choice at this point,” Oscar sighed. “Zai won’t be able to hush up the case so easily. A trial will be held soon at Pandora Headquarters.”

“…Which side will you take, Uncle Oscar?”

Oscar shrugged, both hands held up in mock-surrender:

“I’m not taking any sides. It’s just like you said: it’s the good relationship between our two families that we’re going to salvage,” the duke winked at Gilbert. “And in order to do that, we must make all the light on the plot against Gilbert.”

Lorina frowned:

“A plot? You mean to say that Father wasn’t working alone?”

Gilbert answered with a solemn look:

“The duke wasn’t the only one behind the attack. It was my own coachman who led Oz, Alice and I into a trap – a servant of the Nightray Household. I think Duke Vessalius is in league with Duke Nightray.”

It felt disturbingly like _déjà-vu_ when Gilbert turned towards Oscar and voiced his suspicions. Except, Gilbert reminded himself with a raw sense of relief, he had protected Oz this time. Neither he nor Alice had been thrown into the Abyss, and thanks to the duke’s captured accomplices, Bernard Nightray wouldn’t be able to provide any convenient alibis for Zai.

Oscar looked more concerned than really surprised by his words, but Lorina turned to him with a look of shocked revulsion:

“What? But…that’s crazy! Why would Duke Nightray target his own son?”

Gilbert raised a hand to his chest and felt the place where his blood-mirror used to be. He remembered Vincent’s warnings:

“…He was probably after Raven. Our attackers tried to end my contract with him by breaking the blood mirror. My Chain is the only thing that ties me directly to the Nightray Household, after all… I’m afraid my foster family never saw that in a favourable light.”

“Your own family…” Lorina pressed her lips together in a tight line: “…Do you have any proof?”

“No,” Gilbert gave a frustrated sigh. That much hadn’t changed. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if Duke Nightray supported Zai at the trial.”

“Will I be able to attend it too?” Lorina asked her uncle earnestly.

“You might be required to,” Oscar said in a dark voice. “Gilbert was attacked on the way to your party, after all…”

“They can’t possibly put the blame on her!” Gilbert protested.

“Well…” a cynical self-confidence slowly crept back into Lorina’s voice. “If Father cares at all about me, that might be one way to bring him back on our side, don’t you think?”

Gilbert shuddered, too horrified by her words and expression to answer. He was unnerved by how much that smirk of hers resembled her father’s.

“That’s one way to put it,” Oscar laughed. “But I would rather not see my dear niece get caught in the crossfire, if it’s all the same to you. We should prepare our plea together…”

Just then, a gallop of high heels resounded in the corridors, soon followed by knuckles drumming on the door and Mrs Kate’s shrill voice:

“Lord Oscar! Are you in there? Oh please tell me Lady Lorina is here with you…!”

Gilbert and Lorina rounded on the door with twin expressions of dread. The display only brightened Oscar’s mood.

“…Actually, you should return to the preparations, Ina,” he said lightly. “It’s getting late. Zai was probably informed of your absence, so you’d better hurry before Mrs Kate sends a search party. I promise I will relay our discussion to you later,” he added in a softer tone.

Lorina looked like she was about to protest, but her uncle’s reassurance changed her mind. She fixed her hair hastily and steadied her posture:

“Thank you. I will see you later, Uncle Oscar,” she gave her uncle a well-practiced curtsey, and another to Gilbert – who was suddenly struck by an odd detail.

“You never call me by name,” he said, unable to stop himself.

“Oh.” Lorina looked sideways. “That is… I never really know how to call you.”

Gilbert was taken aback. Come to think of it, he had gotten used to people calling him all sorts of different names, usually in association with one of his Chains or adoptive families. It occurred to him how confusing it could sound to an outsider.

“‘Gilbert’ is fine,” he told Lorina. She flushed.

“That would be contrary to etiquette, wouldn’t it?”

Gilbert noticed the warning glint in Oscar’s eyes. He gulped.

“…Lord Gilbert, then?” Even after all this time, the honorific still sounded strange.

“Don’t sound so unsure,” Lorina said with an exasperated sigh. “You deserve that title more than most noblemen I know.”

That startled Gilbert out of his unease. He didn’t think he deserved the compliment, but he felt touched all the same. He gave her a grateful smile.

“ _Lord Oscar!_ ”

“Coming, coming!” Oscar said heartily, and gestured for Gilbert to hide. The man promptly ducked behind the duke’s desk – he didn’t have too fond memories of Mrs Kate’s angry rants. “I was giving Ina last-minute advice, you know how it is, time just flew by…”

“Milady! I looked _everywhere_ for you…!”

Gilbert saw Lorina’s reflection in the window get dragged away by a stampede of servants, led by a frantic Mrs Kate. The man was mildly impressed by how fast they managed to run in those heels – and deeply relieved that none of them saw him.

“All clear!” Oscar said cheerfully.

Gilbert chanced a glance over the desk to confirm it. He slipped out of his hiding place with a relieved sigh.

“Is Lady Lorina going to be alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Mrs Kate can be a hassle, but she has Ina’s best interests at heart.”

“…That’s not what I meant…” Gilbert glanced at the duke uneasily. “Will you be okay, Lord Oscar? Your brother…”

Oscar shook his head. His voice lost its carefree tone when he answered:

“Zai has been avoiding me for a while now… I should have suspected that something was amiss.”

“It’s not your fault! You had no way of knowing what he planned to do!”

“That may be true… but I still feel responsible,” the smile Oscar gave Gilbert was sad, but no less genuine for it. “Zai is my brother, and I won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt me to have to face him in this manner… but you are as much family to me as he is. I refuse to let him hurt you further. I’m sure Ina feels the same.”

These words left Gilbert breathless. Suddenly he felt like he was nine again, with nowhere to go and no parent to run to, when Lord Oscar had treated his injuries and welcomed him into the Vessalius Household with a paternal grin.

“Lord Oscar…” he said shakily. He could feel tears brimming at his eyes and made haste to wipe them away.

Oscar’s smile became more amused at his reaction: “Are you really so surprised?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…strange.” Gilbert fidgeted. No matter how much time passed, it always felt odd to be taller than Oscar. “Once, in the time I come from, you told me that…I was like a son to you. That made me so happy.... And now…” He chuckled sheepishly. “It’s so strange being the same age as you.”

Oscar laughed outright. Gilbert felt a little embarrassed, but seeing the duke’s optimistic expression again was well worth it.

“I can see it, though,” Oscar told him when his laughter died down. He looked more relaxed, but his next question was asked in a serious tone: “What about Oz?”

“Oz…?”

“Do you know how I felt about him?”

Gilbert smiled at that:

“You loved him like a son. You were more a father to him than Zai ever was.”

There was a peculiar expression on Oscar’s face. A wistfulness that Gilbert didn’t know how to interpret, coupled with gratitude.

“I see…” he breathed a heavy sigh. “That’s a relief.”

Gilbert felt confused: “What do you mean?”

Oscar shook his head:

“It’s complicated… But your story always felt oddly compelling to me. The way you described Oz… I couldn’t help but think of my own son.” The duke drew a hand through his hair and looked towards the sunny curtained windows. “What could have been if he had lived....”

A heavy weight sat on Gilbert’s chest. He had arrived at the Vessalius mansion years after Oscar had lost his wife and child, and the man’s grief was always well concealed by his constant cheer. Gilbert would have been none the wiser if Oscar had never spoken of his loss.

“You should tell him,” he said softly.

“Who?” Oscar asked, a little startled.

“Oz. He doesn’t show it, but he is very sensitive. He has trouble realizing how much people care about him, so…” A wistful smile tugged at Gilbert’s lips. “I mean… I know it sounds strange right now, what with Oz looking like a plush rabbit, but…”

Oscar shook his head: “It sounded crazy at first. I will admit that it took me a long time to get used to the idea… but really, when you stop to think about it, what happened to Oz is no stranger than travelling through time or dealing with Chains. Furthermore, you couldn’t lie to save your life, Gilbert,” Oscar slammed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And I trust you.”

Gilbert winced under the force of the slap, but the words’ impact was stronger still:

“…So you don’t think me mad?”

“Mad? No. I, too, thought I was going insane after Sara died.” Oscar leaned heavily on Gilbert’s shoulder. “But there is nothing mad about missing a loved one.”

Gilbert felt crushed by the combined weight of Oscar’s contained grief and his own nostalgia.

“Oz isn’t dead,” he said in a strained voice. “He isn’t lost to the Abyss, either. This can’t compare to what you’ve been through…”

Oscar shook his head: “Don’t be ridiculous. There is no point comparing feelings. Grief can’t be measured. I can’t even begin to imagine how this situation must feel to you. Having your most precious person right in front of you, but being unable to talk to him, for five years straight… It would drive anyone insane. You’re a lot stronger than you realize, Gilbert.”

Somehow, the way Oscar put it made his own feelings easier to bear. Easier to understand, maybe.

“It’s not so bad,” Gilbert answered, and was surprised to realize that he meant it. “We’ve been through much worse. At least I know Oz is in no direct danger, or Alice would feel it. And the three of us have gotten stronger. We can protect each other.” He gave a shaky sigh. “I just… I wish I could tell. I want to know if Oz is happy. I want to see his smile again....”

Oscar nodded and stared in the far distance: “I know the feeling....”

Suddenly he straightened up with a long, deep intake of breath, like a rooster before sunrise. He let it out in a long string of categorical sentences:

“But there is no need to beat yourself over it. Word of advice: after all these years, I have come to realize that taking care of others is the best way to forget about your own sorrow. You are doing everything you can for Oz and the Four Households, and that’s already too much for one man to handle, if you ask me,” Oscar punctuated every point with a hearty slap on the back. Gilbert thought his lungs had been emptied when the duke concluded: “We are both alive, and we have a right to be happy. Don’t forget that you have people to support you, alright?”

“I won’t, Lord Oscar,” he answered, breathless, but feeling much better. Somehow, all his anxiety had left his body along with the air. “I won’t forget.”

“Good.” Oscar put his fists on his hips in a victorious pose. “As a matter of fact, the number of people who support you has improved significantly this past year. Ina was only relaying the rumours she heard at Lutwidge Academy, but she isn’t privy to the discussions at Pandora Headquarters yet. And the veracity of your past predictions attest to your honesty. Our colleagues are giving your version of the story more credit now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Gilbert said once he had caught his breath.

“Judging by your reaction, no one from Pandora bothered to tell you that they were starting to believe you,” Oscar sighed. “But at least they discuss it among themselves. In fact, there have been interesting theories about how accurate your predictions were in spite of the differences in our history.”

That got Gilbert’s full attention: “Are you referring to Break’s theory? That the Abyss might be actively trying to repeat history even if the past has been changed?”

“Yes,” Oscar’s confident position deflated slightly as his voice got sterner. “I’ve talked further on this with Break and Vincent. In the future you come from, Zai’s first child was a boy, whom Zai could trade with Jack Vessalius’ infant body without arousing suspicion. Vincent explained the resurrection’s cycle to me: most likely, the reason Jack knew that Zai’s son would be stillborn was because he was the child whom Jack was supposed to be reincarnated as. Since no soul could reach his body, the boy was stillborn.”

“But in our time,” Oscar went on, “Jack Vessalius was swallowed into the Abyss along with Sablier. And since Oz turned him into Lacie Baskerville’s Chain, Jack, as B-Rabbit, was thrown into the darkness of the Abyss along with her, and their souls were annihilated. Break’s theory is that, in the Abyss, these two events happened at the same time. This is why history was rewritten accordingly: like Jack Vessalius’ ghost had never interfered with the hundred years cycle of resurrection. According to Vincent, this is the reason Ina was born; as a fresh soul from the Abyss,” he added in a whisper, as if he were afraid his niece would hear him.

Gilbert was suddenly reminded of Break’s first meeting with him and Vincent in the Abyss, when he was still Kevin Regnard: they had come from completely different times, but to the Abyss, their arrivals had happened in quick succession. He nodded grimly:

“Oz thought that turning the remains of Jack’s soul into a Chain would fix the time paradox without altering the past. But it looks like we ended up changing the past after all… Are you suggesting that is why Oz lost his human body?”

“This is just conjecture,” Oscar said apologetically. “But it would make sense. After all, if Jack Vessalius never wandered the earth for a hundred years, it stands to reason that Oz could never acquire his human body. On the other hand, Oz did have a body of his own before meeting Jack: that of a plush rabbit. Furthermore, since the future you come from was erased, from the Core of the Abyss’ point of view, Oz and Jack were thrown into the Abyss at the same time, during the Tragedy of Sablier; and so were you, Alice and Vincent. Therefore, when the three of you got out five years ago and left Jack behind, the Abyss gave Oz his old body back after fixing the time paradox. It’s like Oz had never lost it.”

“And what remained of Oz’s powers was shared between him, Alice and I,” Gilbert completed. “Since she was the one who took his powers back in Sablier, and I made a pact with them both.” He clenched his fists: “That means that Oz might never become human again, doesn’t it?”

Oscar gave him a look of compassion.

“It is only a theory,” he insisted. “The best the three of Break, Vincent and I could come up with so far. The Abyss is still a mystery to us. But thanks to you and the Baskervilles, we might be able to better understand it one day. This alliance between the Five Households is definitely a step in the right direction.” He looked Gilbert right in the eyes, like he was trying to pull him out of his depression by sheer willpower. “We will figure out what happened to Oz. I’m sure of it.”

Gilbert nodded firmly:

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Oscar grinned. He turned towards the door and gave a theatrical gasp upon spotting the clock hanging over it: “Would you look at the time! We’d better go back to Miss Alice before she gets bored to death. And I’m sure Ada will want to spend more time with you before the Ceremony starts. The poor dear is so upset that she can’t attend.”

On the way back, Oscar regaled him with tales of his nieces’ antics in Gilbert’s absence, overflowing with praise of the girls’ piano lessons and marvelling at how fast they were growing up. Gilbert shared the feeling, all the more so now that he had stopped aging: time seemed to pass even faster, almost too fast for him to keep up. He wondered if Break felt the same way.

‘He has a right to be happy, too,’ Gilbert thought. ‘We all do. Lord Oscar is right…’

But how could he convince Vincent and Break of that when he couldn’t convince himself?

_‘Love only your master and protect him. Only then will you have value as a human being.’_

Gilbert willed the memory back and focused on the present. He would much rather trust Oscar than the insidious voice in his head. He could fight it.

They found Ada swinging her legs with her huge eyes fixed on the door. She beamed at them as soon as they opened it, and leapt from her chair:

“Welcome back! Now, please kneel down and close your eyes.”

Gilbert exchanged a befuddled gaze with Alice, who shrugged. However, Oscar gave them an encouraging wink and executed himself with a flourish:

“Your wishes are orders, milady.”

Ada giggled at her uncle’s antics. Gilbert took a knee and gestured for Alice to do the same; she knelt down with a reluctant frown, careful to gather all the folds of her cherry-red party dress into her arms so she wouldn’t trip, and half-closed her eyes:

“No cheating!” Ada scolded her.

“But I already saw what you…”

“Shh! You promised not to tell!”

“Whatever…” Alice rolled her eyes and closed them. Relieved to see that she wouldn’t throw a tantrum, Gilbert followed suit.

He heard Ada’s inquisitive humming as she peered closely at each of them to make sure they weren’t peeping, then the soft tapping of her little shoes as she went to fetch whatever she wanted to surprise them with, and ran back. There was a soft rustle. Something light came to rest on top of Gilbert’s head. He recognized the smell of daisies from the Vessalius garden.

“You can open your eyes now!”

Gilbert blinked. Oscar immediately hugged his niece and started to rub his nose against her cheek in hearted thanks for the flower crown adorning his head.

“I didn’t want you to feel left over,” Ada said between giggle fits as her uncle gave her a noisy kiss. “Uncle Oscar, that tickles!”

“You mean ‘left out,’” Gilbert corrected automatically, although he could feel a wide grin on his own face. Alice looked vaguely annoyed. “Thank you, Miss Ada.”

Gilbert raised his eyes to the table Ada had previously occupied – his breath caught in his throat.

There was Oz, with his red mantle and white bow neatly folded next to him. The little rabbit had traded it for a white mantle with golden and green embroideries on the sleeves, and a white cravat with the Vessalius emblem strapped on.

It was a miniature replica of the mantle Oz had worn at his own Coming of Age Ceremony.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ada cheered.

Gilbert felt dizzy. No one but him and Alice knew what Oz had been wearing that day, and neither of them had ever mentioned it. There hadn’t been a point to. _The Abyss might be actively trying to repeat history._ Could it really be the case? Even in details like this?

He turned towards Oscar, still reeling from the sight: “Did you…?”

“I had it custom-made,” the duke grinned. “Since Oz was going to attend the ceremony, we thought he should look his best.”

“Me and Ina made the clasp!” Ada said. “And we all wrote the card!”

Suddenly speechless, Gilbert lifted the card that lay on top of Oz’s pile of clothes. Under a rainbow-coloured crayoned ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY OZ’ in sloppy capitals were three signatures in green ink: a calligraphic ‘Ada’ – and Gilbert could only imagine the amount of practice it must have taken the child, – Oscar’s official seal, and ‘Ina.’

Gilbert marvelled at Oz. It occurred to him that he never had a chance to congratulate his young master on his fifteenth birthday.

“You look gorgeous, Oz,” he told him, and beamed at Ada and Oscar: “It’s a great gift… Thank you.”

Ada exploded in delighted giggles: “You’re welcome!” She started to play with the brim of the hat that still adorned her head, looking a little crestfallen in spite of her success. “I really wanted to go to the party....”

Gilbert petted her head comfortingly: “Your time will come.”

The hat fell in front of her eyes again. Ada lifted it to peer up at him: “Will you come to my Coming of Age Ceremony, too?”

An old guilt raised its ugly head. Gilbert had still been avoiding the Vessalius family when he had been invited to Ada’s Coming of Age Ceremony, and had long debated with himself whether or not he should go. His cowardice won in the end, and he had let Vincent attend in his stead.

Gilbert knew how much his absence had hurt Ada’s feelings that day; she had told him as much in her letters. He could no longer ignore them after that.

“I will be there,” he told the child solemnly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Ada cheered up instantly and hugged his knees in thanks. Gilbert offered to let her keep his hat, now that she was old enough to wear it, but she declined:

“It looks better on you,” she said as she held it up. “When I’m grown-up, I’ll have my own hat, you’ll see!”

Gilbert laughed: “I’m looking forward to it.”

He definitely trusted her tastes in that department.

“Well then!” Oscar clapped his hands as Ada said her goodbyes to Oz and Alice, “Us grown-ups had better get prepared for the party. Come on, Gilbert, Alice, Oz. Your friends shouldn’t be long now.”

He was referring to their fellow Baskervilles, Gilbert understood. It would be better to decide on a strategy for the trial with the Baskervilles present. After all, if the both of Zai and Duke Nightray were going to accuse Gilbert and Alice of treachery, it was more than likely that the entire Baskerville family would become their scapegoats.

* * *

 

“So basically, Dukes Nightray and Vessalius suspect us of spreading our influence until we have total control of Pandora?” Fang gave a weary sigh. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad plan, though, would it?” Zwei said with a sardonic grin. “Why don’t you actually marry that girl, Gilbert? It would save us a lot of time and trouble.”

“I am not going to marry Lorina against her will just to gain influence!” Gilbert protested.

“‘Against her will!’” Zwei burst out laughing. “You really are an idiot.”

“Never mind that,” Fang shook his head. “It would be a cheap political strategy: arranging a marriage between a Baskerville and a Vessalius would only discredit us in the short term, and lead to more internal conflicts and succession problems in the long term. Duke Nightray’s behaviour is only proof of that: he adopted Gilbert and Vincent because he was desperate to get his hands on Raven, but after five years, he has decided that having Baskervilles for adopted sons was more trouble than it was worth. The Four Households are terrified of losing their influence to us, who were gifted with the power of the Abyss.”

Oscar nodded sombrely:

“I’m afraid you’re right. On his own, Gilbert already has more power and political influence than anyone at Pandora; it’s only natural that people would be wary of him. Gaining an even higher status would only encourage his detractors.”

“At least it would be easier to get rid of them if they attack us directly,” Alice said with a shrug.

“I would prefer to avoid any more assassination attempts, thank you,” Gilbert grumbled at her.

“You’re no fun.”

“ _You and Oz almost got thrown into the Abyss!_ ”

Oscar rounded on them, eyes wide with shock:

“You didn’t tell me that. Did Zai do this?”

Gilbert cursed himself for revealing the whole truth in such a brutal way. But there was no way he could have hidden the facts from Oscar, not with Zai’s upcoming trial. He acquiesced with an apologetic look.

Fang broke the ensuing heavy silence with his usual practicality:

“In that case, you might not have been the duke’s target to begin with. Have you considered that he might only have been after B-Rabbit?”

Gilbert turned to him with a start:

“Oz? But what about my blood mirror then? Zai hired the Lizard to destroy it.”

“And his lackeys shot Raven!” Alice chimed in.

“Remember that the higher ups at Pandora Headquarters already know about our healing abilities,” Fang pointed out. “They might have been trying to slow you down rather than kill you. It could be the same for Raven: losing it would have made you unable to protect your other Chain.”

“You really think they would have let him live after that?” Alice asked scornfully.

“I don’t know,” Fang admitted. “But think about it: Duke Nightray had no guarantee that anyone but Gilbert could contract Raven, even if he got killed. It would be too great a risk for him to take, whereas a broken contract can be renewed. Duke Nightray might have planned on letting Gilbert live in case none of his sons managed to contract Raven after the mirror was broken.”

“…So the two dukes were only trying to lessen my influence by breaking my two contracts?” Gilbert clenched his fists. “Was that reason enough to kill Oz and Alice?”

“You can’t be _this_ stupid!” Zwei shook her head. “Of course that’s not the only reason, it’s because of B-Rabbit’s powers. It was just a rumour at first, but the Pandora higher ups have figured it out by now: they’re growing.”

“What?” Gilbert turned round to face her, so fast he almost tripped. “Really?”

“You didn’t even notice?” Zwei cackled in disbelief.

He hadn’t. He hadn’t noticed a thing.

It had become easier over the years to ignore the voices in his head and the constant pain in his left arm. But he had been trying so hard to repress them that he had failed to see any changes in the powers he carried.

Gilbert put a careful hand on his forearm. He could still feel Raven and B-Rabbit’s powers fighting for dominance, barely restrained by the seal Gilbert had put on himself. But now that he was paying close attention…

Oz’s powers had taken the advantage. Raven’s seal was reaching its breaking point.

Gilbert rounded on Alice and Oz. The rabbit was unreadable as ever, but Gilbert saw his own shock reflected in the young girl’s eyes.

“You didn’t feel anything?” Gilbert asked incredulously. “Even when you were fighting?”

Alice shook her head. She slowly rose Oz to her eye-level and frowned at him:

“My powers are the same as ever. If you don’t feel anything either, that means the change must be happening in Oz’s body.”

“I…do feel a change,” Gilbert said in a trembling whisper. “It was too gradual for me to notice as it happened, but now....” His grip tightened on his arm. “I’m not sure the seal can contain Oz’s power much longer....”

Alice glanced over at him before she glared at Oz and pinched his cheek. She tilted her head as though she were listening to a faint voice in the distance.

“I think it’s a good thing,” she said at last. “Oz can control his powers, and he would never hurt you. He should have told me, though,” she added with another chastising pinch.

“A good thing?” Zwei growled. “You think it’s fun to lose control of your Chain? I sure am glad Doldum can’t break the restraining seal Gilbert put on me. Just you wait until B-Rabbit takes over your body! Then again,” she threw Gilbert a mocking smirk, “maybe you would like that, you freak.”

“Oh, shut it,” Alice bit back. “You’re the one who possessed him twice with your stupid strings!”

“I did, did I?” Zwei grinned. “That does sound fun…”

“Now, ladies,” Oscar said amiably, but loudly enough to cut in on the argument, “You are here as our guests, and no one will be possessing Gilbert tonight, are we clear on this?”

“Quite,” Fang agreed. He ignored Zwei’s petulant pout and turned to Gilbert: “Zwei does have a point, though: no matter how much you trust your Chain, it’s still dangerous if its power outbalances yours; especially when you have two.”

Gilbert barely heard them. He was too busy staring intently at his arm and probing the intensity of the powers contained there. Now that he was looking, there seemed to be some intent to the way the power was spreading in his veins. Rather than spreading through his whole body as their contract allowed, Oz’s power was focused solely on his left arm. Raven’s influence was also stronger there – _“once again I will be bound to your left hand,” Raven told him long ago, there was no escaping it_ – but the bird’s power, unlike B-Rabbit’s, was omnipresent. Could it be that Oz was targeting something specific?

‘So Oz does have some control of his powers after all,’ Gilbert thought, elated. ‘But is he doing this consciously? Or is it just his power fighting off Raven’s seal?’

“Gilbert?”

Gilbert started and quickly apologized for spacing out.

“Alice is right,” he said. “Oz would never hurt me. Furthermore, I made this contract so that I could help him bear the weight of his powers. Even if the seal doesn’t hold, I will do my best to contain them. I was supposed to inherit Lord Glen’s five Black Winged Chains, after all; if I can’t handle Oz’s powers, no one can.”

“And you would never reject it, would you?” Zwei sneered. “Even to save your own skin?”

“Never,” Gilbert said in a steely tone. “And I don’t plan to die, either.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Fang sighed. “But please remember that your allegiance goes to Master Glen.”

Gilbert wanted to protest, but the shrill voice in his head wouldn’t let him. His arm was ablaze with the constant strain of his old vow and two contracts.

“ _Leo,_ ” he put a deliberate emphasis on the child’s birth name, “is too young to rule over us, much less decide on Oz’s fate.”

“I agree,” Fang raised a placating hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Gilbert. As our Master’s original successor, I do think you’re the most fit for regency until our rightful Master comes of age. But if you’ll allow me to be frank, I think you’re too easily swayed by your emotions. It’s clouding your judgement.”

_Judgement._ Oh how he hated that word.

It brought to mind an old conversation he had with his fellow Baskervilles. Vincent, of all people, had brought up the subject of Children of Misfortune. He had been the one to point out that there must have been a reason that such children had to be cast into the Abyss in the first place. That there might be some truth to the old superstitions about them attracting disaster.

Gilbert had been livid. Even if he had been forced to admit that Children of Misfortune seemed to have a special connection to the Will of the Abyss – Oz had insisted that either Vincent or Break should accompany them if they wanted to meet her, after all – that was no excuse to sacrifice anyone for being born with red eyes. And at any rate, it didn’t matter: the Will of the Abyss no longer existed.

The three of Vincent, Fang and Zwei had accused him of sentimentality. Gilbert would hear none of it. It was Lacie’s sacrifice that had started everything, and Gilbert wasn’t about to repeat Oswald’s mistake. He had told them as much.

However, the truth of the matter was that Gilbert refused to believe that Children of Misfortune attracted disaster, point blank. He never had Oz’s gift to hide his own feelings and think rationally. His actions attested to that, and people tended to realize it within minutes of talking to him.

Nonetheless, Gilbert didn’t think he was in the wrong.

“It’s not irrational to believe in Oz,” he said defiantly. “I’ve known him my whole life, and we went through much worse than some power incontinence. We’ll be fine.”

Fang inclined his head, resigned:

“In any case, we will be watching your back tonight. Won’t we, Zwei?”

“Sure,” Zwei shrugged. “Vincent asked me to protect that idiot brother of his, after all. I just hope something will _actually_ happen. You didn’t sound too sure, Gilbert.”

“Circumstances have changed from the previous situation,” Gilbert said, “so we should be ready for anything.”

With these words, the conversation was over. Oscar led the Baskervilles to the party and the waiting guests.

“Alice!”

The sight of Alice’s twin sister was almost blinding for all the white she wore. She ran past Gilbert like a silky comet, and stopped just short of hugging Alice, frozen by the sight of her fellow Baskervilles. Said sister had no such qualms about their audience: she promptly wrapped the newcomer into her arms; only then did the former Will of the Abyss return the tight embrace:

“It’s been so long!”

She peered anxiously over Alice’s shoulder and gave her fellow Baskervilles a timid greeting. She only let go of her twin to give Oscar a curtsey, and a curt nod to Gilbert. Alice frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but promptly shut it when Sharon walked in after her twin, followed by Break.

“Good evening, Lord Oscar,” Sharon bowed deeply to each of them. “My Lords Baskervilles, Lord Gilbert, Lady Alice.”

Gilbert returned the greeting with a wide smile. The other Alice was right: it _had_ been too long since they were all together. Sharon had grown at least four inches since the last time he saw her, and it would likely be the last time he could witness her growth:

“It’s good to see you again, Lady Sharon, Break, Lady Alice.”

“Too bad it’s going to be brief,” Zwei sing-sang as Oscar greeted the three guests with his usual booming enthusiasm and Fang stood to formal, respectful greetings. “Since you’ve yet to come of age, Miss Sharon.”

“Zwei!” Gilbert hissed.

Sharon’s serene smile didn’t waver when she answered: “Actually, Lady Lorina was kind enough to give me a special invitation as her friend. I am truly grateful to her.”

Oh right, the two of them were schoolmates at Lutwidge Academy, Gilbert realized. He hadn’t known that they had gotten this close, but it sounded like Lorina had given Sharon the formal task of welcoming her into noble society after her vows. It was a great honour, and the only case in which a minor could attend an official gathering. Gilbert sent Lorina a silent thank you for the unexpected backup.

“You honour us with your presence, Lady Sharon,” Oscar assured her. “And I’m delighted to hear that you and my niece get along so well.”

“I also came to excuse my mother’s absence tonight,” Sharon said in a quieter voice. “She would have loved to come, but sadly, her health won’t allow it. Please accept her deepest apologies.”

“It’s not like it’s news to us,” Zwei smirked. “Gilbert foretold that, after all.”

“ _Zwei!_ ”

“Indeed,” Sharon said calmly. “And it shouldn’t surprise you either that I have successfully contracted a Chain.”

“This is great news, Lady Sharon!” Gilbert exclaimed, distracted from Zwei’s impudence by this bit of information. “Congratulations!”

Sharon was briefly startled out of her serene expression:

“That’s…unexpected. I thought you already knew I would do it?”

“You know I can never be sure which events are going to repeat themselves and which of them are going to change,” Gilbert told her. “And at any rate, it’s an impressive feat to achieve a contract. I look forward to working with you.”

Sharon’s smile returned. This time, it reached her eyes:

“You are very kind. But then, I don’t suppose you will have any problems guessing which Chain I acquired?”

“It was Eques, the unicorn, wasn’t it?”

“Correct,” Sharon’s smile widened. “It sounds like your predictions deserve our full attention. I don’t suppose I need to introduce you to my servant, Xerxes Break?”

“No,” Alice grumbled, which earned her a reproachful glare from her sister. Her reaction only made Break grin:

“A pleasure to see you again, milady; gentlemen,” he added, bowing to Oscar and the Baskervilles in turn. “I am officially here to escort Lady Sharon and her sweet adopted sister Alice to the party; but of course, partying isn’t the only reason we’re here. You did ask for reinforcements, didn’t you, Gilbert?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.”

Break gave him a blank stare.

“You do realize we are actually here to keep an eye on you, right?”

Gilbert nodded.

“It’s probably for the best,” he touched his left arm carefully. “Oz’s powers are getting unstable. I’m not sure what’s causing it yet. I don’t think I’m in any danger, but still – I’ll feel better if you and Mad Hatter are nearby tonight.”

“When did this happen?” Sharon asked with a worried frown.

“It was very gradual,” Gilbert said, a little sheepish. “I only noticed the difference when Fang pointed it out.”

“ _As useless as ever!_ ” Emily chanted in her mechanical voice, making Gilbert jump out of his skin.

“Don’t be so blunt, Emily,” Break mock-scolded her.

“Hey, Raven, mind if I tear that thing to shreds?” Alice growled.

“Now, now, I never threatened to harm _your_ little doll, did I?”

“Yes you did,” Alice pulled Oz out of Break’s reach before he could snatch him away.

“It was all in good jest, I assure you. Speaking of young master Oz, have you tried restarting the pocket watch today?” Break asked Gilbert.

“No,” Gilbert pulled the watch out of his pocket. “I thought it would be safer to do it with you.”

“Unusually wise, coming from you.”

“Oh, shut it.”

He turned the winder on and on, but still the needles refused to move, ever frozen at midnight. Gilbert let Break, Sharon, Oscar and his fellow Baskervilles try in turn, with no more result. He pried it out of Alice’s hands before she tried to hit the watch against a wall to see if it helped.

“And you say no watchmaker ever managed to open it?” Oscar stared at the golden case in wonder.

Gilbert shook his head.

“Just like the Silent Clock....”

A worried crease appeared on Oscar’s forehead; suddenly he looked a lot more like the man in his forties whom Gilbert had left behind. He didn’t like that look on him. A man like Oscar shouldn’t have to worry so much.

“Last time, the Clock started working again as soon as Oz touched it, right?” Oscar’s frown deepened as he glanced at the plush rabbit. “Will Ina be alright…?”

“We’ll watch over her,” Gilbert told him. “I won’t let anything happen to her or any of the guests, I promise.”

“Thank you. All of you.”

Oscar huffed and puffed in an attempt to clean the grimness right out of his lungs. He gave Gilbert another great slap on the back:

“But don’t let it spoil your fun, this is still a party! There will be plenty of food, beautiful music, delicious tea and alcohol,” Zwei cheered at that, “not to mention a lot of lovely people to dance with, and I want all of you to make the most of it! Now, if you’ll allow me to escort you… this way, please!”

The guests followed Oscar in line, with the exceptions of Alice and Zwei, who bounced more than they walked. Break let the noblemen pass him by, as was expected of a servant. Gilbert lingered behind with him. He was putting off the evil hour when he would step into the crowded hallway, careful to keep Oz and Alice in his line of vision.

“You never told Lord Oscar about Children of Misfortune, did you?” Break leaned over to whisper in his ear. Gilbert almost screamed.

“Where did you hear that?” he asked in a fast mumble.

“Your little rat isn’t always as secretive as you, and I have my ways to verify information. Funny that you didn’t think it important to inform me.”

“ _Idiot! Idiot!_ ” Emily chimed in.

Gilbert winced. On top of everything he had been through as Kevin Regnard and having to care for the former Will of the Abyss to make amends, Gilbert had hoped that Break would never have to face the same doubts Vincent was plagued with constantly. But once again, his brother had to spill the beans.

“Those are just superstitions,” Gilbert insisted. “They were stronger in the past, that’s all! Vincent always overreacts when it comes to this, but there’s nothing to worry about, I promise!”

“Then why hide it from me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel discriminated!”

Break’s one visible eyebrow twitched.

“Excuse me?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“I…I thought you had enough on your plate as it was. So....”

Gilbert drifted off, suddenly too nervous to continue. Break’s expression remained deadpan: “Are you serious?”

Gilbert gulped. From his tone of voice, Break looked about ready to strangle him.

“If you really think I would care about something like this,” Break said, “you don’t know me as well as you claim.”

“Well, you never say anything when something bothers you, but…”

“That’s quite enough.”

Gilbert bit back a yelp of pain when Break’s cane hit the back of his head. His fellow agent kept walking as if nothing had happened. He gave Gilbert a pointed glare in passing:

“No more hiding information from me, especially those that concern me personally. And more importantly, _I do not want any of your mother hen concern._ Are we clear on this?”

“Y-Yes. Sorry.”

Break rolled his eye: “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve managed to survive this long, Gilbert.”

Gilbert started. Then a helpless grin spread across his face. Break raised his eyebrow at him:

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just the first time you’ve called me that. Well, in this time, I mean,” he amended with a sheepish chuckle.

Break answered with a startled grimace. Gilbert wasn’t sure whether the expression was an insult aimed at him or a manifestation of self-disgust. Break turned away promptly:

“We’d better catch up with the others.”

“Wait,” Gilbert was careful to keep his voice down as he matched Break’s stride. “Do you think I should tell Lord Oscar and Lady Lorina?”

“Do whatever you want,” Break shrugged. “As long as you tell me first, I really don’t care.”

“ _But they won’t be happy when they find out!_ ” Emily cackled.

Gilbert felt Alice’s temptation to tear the doll apart very keenly. However, irritating as Emily’s voice was, he had to concede the point.

“…I’ll think about it.”

“It’s a little late for that, Raven,” Break said over his shoulder. He walked back to Sharon’s side without another word.

Gilbert sighed. It looked like they were back on formalities. But they had made some progress.

He hid in the shadows of the thick curtains at the entrance, and scanned the great hall. Alice had made a beeline for the buffet with Oz under her arm, followed by her sister, who eyed the dance floor with longing. That reminded Gilbert of his promise to Lorina, and his nervousness expanded tenfold.

The young heiress wasn’t hard to spot: a long line of guests had gathered to offer her their best wishes on the occasion of her fifteenth birthday. Gilbert traced the queue of cheerful noblemen and women back with his eyes, and found that Lorina wasn’t welcoming them alone.

Gilbert clenched his fists at the sight of Zai. He glanced over at Oz and Alice. The little girl was stuffing herself while maintaining a strong grip on her plush rabbit, oblivious to the world. Gilbert felt a wave of protectiveness clash with his anger. He stepped out of his hiding spot and made to join them.

At the very least his anger gave him the focus he needed to restrain his fear when noblewomen accosted him on his way there, and having to go congratulate Lorina was the perfect excuse to cut every attempt at conversation short.

“It’s too early to eat,” he chastised Alice as soon as he reached her; although he was pleased to see that she was using her utensils with the proper refinement in spite of the speed with which she devoured her food. “We have to greet our host properly first, remember?”

“There are too many people,” Alice argued after swallowing. She leaned over to whisper: “And I don’t want to greet her with Scarface standing there.”

“Me neither,” Gilbert said in the same tone. “But we need to keep up appearances. Zai will be tried in due time. Besides, Lady Lorina knows what happened. She’s on our side.”

Alice squinted her eyes doubtfully: “Really? I thought she loved Scarface.”

“Of course she does. That doesn’t mean she will stand for what he almost did.”

Alice still looked unconvinced.

“What are you two whispering about?”

Alice’s twin was so quiet Gilbert had nearly forgotten she was there. She came to stand very close to her sister and wrapped a possessive arm around hers.

“Nothing,” Alice shrugged her off to finish her serving of ham with salmon eggs before she put down her utensils on a passing plate. Gilbert thanked the servant carrying it when she failed to. “We were just going to greet the party-girl. Are you coming?”

Her sister looked quickly from the waiting line to a group of women talking animatedly with each other. Sharon was among them, with Break keeping a respectful distance in the shadows.

“Then Sharon should come too,” she declared. “And Xerx as well!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Alice grumbled. “You don’t need the clown to trail you all the time.”

“Don’t call him that!”

“Alright, don’t fight, I’ll ask them,” Gilbert said.

Alice protested further, but in the end she followed Gilbert through the crowd with her sister clinging to her arm. The man watched over the twins out the corner of his eyes, and noticed the way the former Will of the Abyss kept her eyes to the floor as she walked. A few women pointed at her white hair from behind their fans. Their stares were making the already timid girl shake with nerves.

Civilians and Pandora agents alike were whispering among themselves as she passed, Gilbert noticed angrily. He could guess what each group was gossiping about: to the former, each twin had been adopted by a different Household, and the girls were supposedly eighteen but neither of them looked their age; did they really have any right to attend such an important ceremony? Who in their right mind gave twin girls the same name, anyway? Furthermore, they were rumoured to be descendants of the Baskervilles. What were the Nightray and Rainsworth families thinking, adopting children with such a suspicious background?

It was all rubbish, but at the very least the official version acknowledged that the two of them were blood relatives. To Pandora, they weren’t even actual sisters. It still made Gilbert feel sick to his stomach to think about it, but in spite of their best efforts, there had been no avoiding the ordeal:

In the previous time, there had been no direct interaction between the three of Vincent, Break and Gilbert when they had gotten out of the Abyss through different Gates, and each of the Nightray, Rainsworth and Vessalius families had covered it up successfully. Gilbert himself had had no recollection of the Gate until Break brought it up.

This time however, after coming out of the Abyss, the five of Gilbert, Oz, Vincent and the twins had been in too much of a hurry to find each other, and Bernard Nightray had contacted Pandora Headquarters as soon as Gilbert and Alice had fled towards the Vessalius mansion. Therefore, they had all been tried except for Break, and underwent various tests. Gilbert had insisted on being present for all the experiments on the others to make sure the Pandora staff didn’t hurt any of his companions. Thankfully, the researchers hadn’t found much aside from their exceptional healing abilities and the unique bond between the three of Alice, Oz and Gilbert. The former Will of the Abyss, however, showed no sign of power. No one had suspected that she had once been what Pandora had been looking for all along.

Alice had decided to take advantage of it to get her sister out of trouble. Gilbert had let Vincent answer the researchers’ questions: according to him, the white-haired girl used to be a Baskerville, but had lost her powers in Sablier, when the other Alice had been created. The latter was a mere reflection of the real Alice Baskerville, a fragment of B-Rabbit’s power that had taken the appearance of the nearest human when the Chain had lost its previous contractor to the Abyss. She was now Gilbert’s Chain, along with Oz, who carried the rest of B-Rabbit’s powers; but the white-haired Alice was an ordinary human.

From the results of their experiments, this version sounded plausible enough to the researchers. Since Alice and Gilbert couldn’t be separated, it had been decided that she would stay with the Nightray family, but that the ‘real’ Alice would go live with another Household so as not to burden the Nightrays further, when they already had three adopted relatives to deal with. The white Alice had protested vehemently at first, until the Rainsworth family offered to take her in. Gilbert had already told her she would find Kevin Regnard there.

It hadn’t been easy to arrange a reunion between them. Thankfully, Vincent remembered the graveyard he had first met Break at: that was where he and Gilbert went to meet their fellow contractor, and told him the whole story. In this context, Gilbert had offered his own secrets in exchange for Break’s, and they had formed an alliance. Break had been reluctant to associate himself with them, but surprisingly open about taking the former Will of the Abyss under his wing, even though she had taken his eye.

_“Of course I won’t forgive her,”_ he had told Gilbert once, with his usual uncanny cheer. _“But there is no way I will ever forgive myself, either. A failure of a knight is what this wrecked little princess deserves. We make a good pair, wouldn’t you agree?”_

Gilbert wasn’t sure he understood the logic behind it, but if he read between the lines, Break seemed to feel like the former Will of the Abyss was all he had left. Sometimes, looking at them, he was reminded of Alice and himself: there would always be some underlying resentment, but there was mutual care as well, between comrades in misfortune. They helped each other adjust as best as they could, when Break couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone and the former Will of the Abyss was scared of her own shadow.

Gilbert was impressed that she had found the will to come to this party at all. He had always been scared of crowds himself, but the young girl had more reasons to be afraid still. She had been alone all her life in a timeless prison with only the Chains and her toys for company. Gilbert couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrifying the real world could be to her. No wonder she stuck to Break and her sister like glue.

He slowed his steps to let them catch up and positioned himself on the white Alice’s other side.

At the very least, Oz and Alice had successfully freed her of her powers. That was one less burden for her to carry.

It was a relief when they reached Sharon, although Gilbert was thrown for a loop when all her friends started to talk to him at the same time. Alice stepped up, snaked her free arm into his, and declared over their chatter that she, her sister, Raven and Lady Sharon were off to see Lady Lorina now. For once Gilbert was grateful for her bluntness.

“Candid as ever, Lady Alice,” Sharon chuckled fondly. “But you are quite right. It was lovely talking to you, ladies; I’ll be seeing you. Will you escort me, Lord Gilbert?”

Gilbert hurried to take her offered hand before her friends found some pretext to keep them here any longer, excused himself with a curt nod, and led the three young women away. Break followed at a leisurely pace, and the white Alice made insistent attempts to lead her twin closer to him, much to Alice’s annoyance.

At least Break and Sharon seemed to find their antics funny, Gilbert thought.

“Sorry for taking you away from your friends so abruptly,” he told Sharon.

“Don’t be. This is my first time attending an official gathering; I got a little carried away. I didn’t even take the time to thank Lady Lorina for inviting me. I should be ashamed, really.”

‘Not as much as the one who went straight for the food,’ Gilbert thought inwardly, but made no comment.

“She’s already surrounded by people,” Alice pointed out. She was still clinging to Gilbert’s arm while pulling her sister away from Break, and her twin pulled right back. It was starting to hurt. Gilbert dearly hoped neither of them would let go and fall. “It’s going to take forever like this… Couldn’t we just gather everyone, yell ‘Happy Birthday!’ all together and be done with it?”

“Now, that wouldn’t be very romantic, would it, Lady Alice?”

“You keep using that word, what does it even mean?”

“Oh,” Sharon clapped her hands in delight. “I would be most delighted to teach you…”

Break and Gilbert shuddered, but it was already too late. As they waited in line, Sharon talked non-stop to the twins about the finer points of romance and etiquette. Alice looked more confused than anything, but her twin drank in Sharon’s words with rapture. She had even forgotten her tug-o-war with her sister.

Gilbert tuned them out. Once again, he probed his left arm for signs of instability. He could feel Oz’s powers shiver under Raven’s seal like a wild animal lurking in the grass: invisible, yet formidable and ready to strike. The man chanced a glance at Oz. The poor rabbit was squeezed between the twins’ linked arms, his plush cheeks puffed up in a comical expression of pain. Gilbert made haste to free him from the sisters. He straightened Oz’s pristine new clothes and brushed his ears with his fingers.

“Will you be okay?” Gilbert whispered to him. He glanced over at Zai, who hadn’t spotted them yet. When he looked back at Oz, the rabbit’s expression remained unchanged.

“Hold on, Oz,” Gilbert gave him a comforting pat on the head. “It will be over soon.”

Sharon only stopped talking when they reached their destination, and walked up to Lorina first. The heiress had kept the same polite smile on for all her former guests, but her face lit up upon seeing Sharon, and the two girls exchanged warm greetings. Only Zai’s intervention stopped the two friends in the middle of their merry chat about Lutwidge Academy. Yet even the duke looked more amused than annoyed, and he welcomed Sharon with a kiss of the hand.

“I must also thank you for inviting my sister, Alice,” Sharon said. “This is her first time attending a formal gathering since her own Coming of Age ceremony, she was really anxious to go.” She motioned the twins forward with a wave of her hand. “Come on, ladies, don’t be shy.”

Alice gave her sister a small push forward. The former Will of the Abyss blushed deeply and curtsied to the Vessalius duke and heiress. Her twin bobbed her head to Lorina and greeted Zai with a sharp glare. Gilbert stepped between them before Zai could make a comment:

“I thank you too for your invitation and hospitality, Lady Lorina,” Oz inclined his head along with him as he bowed. Gilbert took a glimpse at the glinting clasp around the rabbit’s neck, and smiled at the efforts that Lorina had gone through to make it. “Congratulations for your fifteenth birthday. We are all really happy to be here on this occasion.”

The lass returned his greeting with a well-practiced curtsey. Gilbert winced in sympathy as he thought of the number of times she had to repeat the gesture this evening. Zai, on the other hand, only received Gilbert and the twins with a brief nod. He didn’t even spare a glance for Oz.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Lorina said. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry that you ran into trouble on your way here.”

Gilbert gasped, but Zai didn’t so much as blink at his daughter’s words. Lorina’s eyes flicked to her father with a flash of anger. She turned back to her guests with a pleasant smile:

“Nevertheless, I welcome you here in the name of the whole Vessalius family. I hope you’ll enjoy this party, and I look forward to working with you at Pandora Headquarters.”

Zai frowned slightly at that. He looked annoyed, but not altogether surprised. Gilbert wondered if Lorina had followed Oscar’s advice and talked to her father prior to the ceremony.

Lorina clapped her hands together:

“But enough of these formalities!” she said, and all conversation subsided as her guests turned towards her. “I believe it is high time that you started enjoying yourselves. Wouldn’t you agree, Uncle Oscar?”

“Quite right!” Oscar’s booming voice carried over from the other side of the reception room. He gave his niece a thumbs-up from over the guests’ heads and gestured grandly towards the band on the balcony. “Music!”

A waltz started playing in the background. Gilbert felt a lump of nervousness obscure his throat and squeezed Oz a little tighter. He knew what was coming, and he couldn’t keep Oz by his side for this:

“I’m leaving Oz in your care,” he told Alice, both as a warning and an apology. Alice nodded and wrapped her arms around the plush rabbit protectively.

All eyes were on Lorina when she held out her hand to him:

“Lord Gilbert, shall we dance?”

The audience gave a collective gasp at the invitation. Zai’s carefully neutral expression morphed into a disapproving scowl. When Gilbert took her offered hand, hurried whispers erupted all around them. Lorina’s only response was a smug smile.

“They’re already starting to gossip,” Gilbert whispered as she lead him to the dance floor. “Are you really okay with this?”

“Let them be,” her lips barely moved when she answered him. He almost missed her reply because of the music. “The entire point is to make a lasting impression.”

“But what about your father?”

She turned to face him. Her satisfied smirk from before had turned acidic:

“I’m doing him a favour,” she murmured as she placed his right hand on her hip and held his left. “By covering up his offense when he attacked you. For now, anyway.”

Gilbert let himself be led, a little unsure on his feet. He was all too aware of everyone’s eyes fixed on them, and the pressure wasn’t helping his dancing skills.

“Don’t think about it,” Lorina told him. “We can deal with it later. Please keep your mind on the dance, you’re going to crush my feet if you keep this up.”

Her smile recovered some genuine amusement when she said that. Gilbert mumbled a quick apology and gradually fell into step with her. Looking at her flushed face and twinkling eyes rather than the surrounding crowd made the experience easier to bear. It brought back memories of the few times he had helped her practice when she was younger.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at this,” he said.

Lorina grinned:

“Better than you?”

“Definitely,” Gilbert smiled self-depressingly. At least he took some comfort in the fact that he was a better dancer than Break; then again, even Oz in his plush body was probably a better dancer than Break.

“You have also gotten better at crafting,” he added with a more genuine smile. “The clasp you made for Oz is beautiful, and this coat looks great on him. I’m sure he loves them.”

To his surprise, Lorina didn’t seem too pleased with the compliment. They twirled in silence for a few seconds.

“You wish you could dance with him instead of me, don’t you?”

Gilbert flushed:

“I…” he ducked his head in an irrational attempt to hide his blush. “I… It’s not like we could, of course… dance together, that is… I know it sounds silly, but…”

Lorina kept guiding him step by step as he rattled on. It took him a moment to realize that the look in her eyes was stern rather than teasing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly anxious. He could feel that his cheeks were beet red.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Don’t worry, it’s almost over. I’ll let you go after this dance.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m afraid I’m not the ideal partner....”

She looked down and squeezed his hand tighter:

“Don’t mention it. I brought this upon myself.”

They kept dancing in silence. Lorina looked wistful, but a small smile graced her features when Gilbert released her for a turn. Her bun nearly came undone as she spun and kept a strong grip on his left hand. The whispers around them subsided along with the music, replaced with a chorus of polite clapping. Lorina slowly let go of his hand.

“If anyone questions you about the nature of our relationship,” she whispered as they bowed to each other, “just tell the truth: we are trying to improve the relationship between our two Households, nothing more. I will do the same.”

“Sure,” Gilbert smiled. “Thank you for everything. Your trust means a lot to me.”

Lorina’s eyes widened into a brief, vulnerable look. She took a breath to say something, but stopped herself at the last second. Her red eyes were very wide as she held his gaze with an earnest expression. Her cheeks were still flushed from the dance.

“…No. Thank _you,_ ” she said at last. With that, she turned away.

“Now,” Oscar said, his enthusiastic clapping still echoing in the great hall, “everybody dance!”

Gilbert made haste to get away and return to Alice’s side before anyone could invite him. The young girl greeted him with a deep scowl. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she grabbed his hand and dragged him straight back to the dance floor.

“You’re dancing the next one with me,” she said in a tone that brooked no reply.

“Wha-Wait! We can’t leave Oz alone!”

“Oz is coming too.”

Gilbert stared, flabbergasted, at the plush rabbit hanging at her side. His lower body had been tied to Alice’s waist securely by the silky red belt of her dress. His white mantle covered the belt and made it look like Oz was bouncing at her side.

“When did you…?” Gilbert asked in wonder.

“I asked one of the designers from Pandora Headquarters to make me a belt like this so I wouldn’t lose Oz in a fight,” Alice answered without slowing down. “I lent their designs to the Vessalius’ seamstresses last time we visited, and the tailors adjusted it for my evening dress this afternoon. I won’t lose Oz tonight.”

She dogged the other dancers without a care for their reproachful glances or Gilbert’s protests, and only stopped when she reached the centre of the dance floor. She turned on her high heels, and Oz whirled at her side.

“Come on, Raven,” she took his other hand on her own authority. “Let’s go!”

It wasn’t the first time the two of them danced together. Anytime Elliot and Leo played the piano at home, Alice would insist on dancing in tune, and it wasn’t unusual for her to drag Gilbert along. She also insisted on helping him improve his skills, since he could rarely keep up with her. Their dances tended to either be straining exercises, or wild, spur-of-the-moment whirling that left him exhausted.

To include Oz changed everything. Gilbert could see his small body bouncing along with their every step, his long ears flying after them when Alice twirled. Even his glass eyes were shining under the lit ceiling. Gilbert’s heart soared.

He felt lighter and lighter as Alice guided him on the dance floor. The faster they danced, the wider she grinned; Gilbert tugged subtly on her hand every time she came too close to the other dancers. He was surprised at how easily they blended in with them. In the eyes of the crowd, Oz was as much a part of Alice as the bright dress she wore. He was an unusual addition that surprised some, but didn’t shock anyone.

Gilbert realized he was grinning too. With the previous pressure gone, he could anticipate her every move as if they were his own, and his body followed smoothly. Her steps were graceful and confident; his were careful and gentle. Between the two of them, Oz danced in tempo. Gilbert could hear his laughter in the strings of the violins.

All too soon, the music ended with a flourish, and every dancer bowed to their respective partner. A little dazed, Gilbert let go of Alice, who gave him an elated smile:

“That was fun!”

“Yes,” he said softly. “It really was.”

He thought back to their conversation in the carriage and almost added: “It will be even better when Oz can move on his own again.”

But something cold closed over his heart and froze the feelings in his chest before he could voice them. In the back of his head, the ever-present lugubrious voice was calling him a failure for getting distracted when he should be helping his master.

Alice squinted at him suspiciously: “What’s wrong? Does your left arm hurt?”

“…Yes,” he admitted. “It hurts continuously tonight. I’m not sure what’s going on....”

They both turned to Oz, who was hanging limply from Alice’s belt. His head was tilted to the side in an impression of reflection.

“You’re planning something,” Alice told the rabbit, “aren’t you?”

Her frown deepened at Oz’s silence.

“Did he say anything?” Gilbert asked anxiously.

“His powers are at their strongest tonight; he suspected that would happen. He is scared to use them, but he thinks he may have to,” she glared at Oz reproachfully: “He won’t tell me anything more.”

Gilbert’s heart beat faster.

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur. A lot of people bombarded him with questions, but he was too bothered by his own troubles to keep track of all conversations. He and Alice kept their answers short, and stuck together until they heard the first rumbles of thunder from the high windows. Even the music was no longer enough to cover the storm.

Gilbert was starting to feel sick. The weather was exactly the same as the day Oz had turned fifteen. Even though he had been expecting it, to actually stand here, among the unsuspecting guests and under the ominous flashes of lightning, assaulted from all sides by the heavy scent of perfume and expensive food....

His memories were rushing back along with these sensations. His nostrils were flaring against the phantom smell of blood. He kept glancing over at the Silent Clock, his body as stiff as a board…

“Relax. You won’t be of any use in your state.”

Gilbert whirled on the speaker:

“Break! Don’t sneak up on me like that, you gave me a heart attack!”

“See what I mean?” Break smirked, unbothered. “You didn’t even feel my presence. All I did was speak to you, and you almost shot me on the spot. If a passage actually opens, you might kill everybody in a fit of nerves.”

Gilbert took several deep, calming breaths before he answered:

“…You’re right. I’m sorry. Did you notice anything unusual?”

“As a matter of fact, I did want to ask you something,” Break tilted his head towards the ballroom. “Do you see anyone familiar over there?”

For fear of drawing attention to them, Gilbert didn’t turn his head in the indicated direction. He scanned the room out the corner of his eyes.

“No,” he said after a minute of searching, a little crestfallen. “Do you?”

“No one specific,” Break answered with a carefree grin. Gilbert tried not to let the taunting expression get to him. “But I would keep an eye on the servants if I were you.”

“Why?”

“Because, after all the fuss you have made about it, I doubt Rufus Barma would miss this Ceremony.”

Gilbert couldn’t supress a small gasp.

“But where…?”

“He is a master of illusion, remember? You did mention that he used to disguise himself as one of Lady Sheryl’s servants. It is indeed a good strategy: nobody of noble lineage would pay any attention to a servant, after all.”

Gilbert frowned: “That’s true, but… Duke Barma has a much higher status in this world, and he is very proud. He never shows himself in public like this, and he never attended a Coming of Age Ceremony before. I thought he would just send spies…”

“Don’t use psychology, Gilbert, you’re terrible at it,” Break clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Trust me on this: someone as information-obsessed as Duke Barma will want to witness today’s events with his own eyes. Now, let me get you something to drink before someone gets suspicious.”

“There is nothing suspicious about talking to a servant,” Gilbert said.

“Maybe not for you,” Break rolled his eye, “but I like to be careful.”

Alice hissed at the servant’s retreating back: “I’m not drinking anything _he_ brings.”

“What did I tell you about wasting food?” Gilbert hissed back. “Besides, Break is our ally.”

“I don’t trust him,” Alice shook her head. “He was fishy before, he is even worse now. If you’re still going to follow him blindly…”

“It was never blind trust,” Gilbert argued. “Break and I have come to an agreement. We are protecting each other’s secrets and trading information. I will keep this up until I actually earn his trust, even if it takes another ten years.”

“Whatever. I’m not making friends with this clown.”

“Alright, alright, just don’t start a fight with him in public,” Gilbert sighed. “In any case, I think we should follow his advice. Duke Barma might really be hiding among the servants. We should watch what we say and who is listening.”

“Exactly,” Break’s voice startled them both. He smirked at their shocked expressions and handed out two glasses of champagne. “You’re not doing a very good job so far.”

Alice snatched one of the glasses out of his hand and promptly retreated behind Gilbert with a pointed glare at Break. The servant’s grin only broadened as he gave the second glass to Gilbert:

“Keep in mind that Duke Barma is the one who fears your influence the most.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened. Somehow, he had forgotten all about that.

He was so wrapped up in his own troubles that he sometimes lost sight of the bigger picture, and which time he lived in. It had taken Gilbert months to get used to this new version of history:

After Oz had fixed the time paradox, Jack had been unable to survive the Tragedy of Sablier. He had disappeared along with the capital and all its residents, leaving no witness to explain the catastrophe.

One thing had remained the same, however: Arthur Barma was to thank for the most detailed accounts of the Tragedy and the events that had followed. He had lost his sister and best friend in Sablier, and had thrown himself in his work body and soul to find out what had happened to them. He was the one who had braved the ruins of the city and found Glen Baskerville’s four keys to the Abyss. The sorcerers he had been in contact with had helped him figure out what the purpose of these keys was. Interrogating the Nightrays had done the rest, and the existence of the Abyss had been discovered.

The rest was history: since the Baskervilles had been the only ones in contact with the Abyss, they were held responsible for the Tragedy. And because their relatives had been guarding the Gate to the Abyss on the day of the Tragedy, the surviving members of the Nightray family were accused of complicity. Many conflicts arose as the royal family fought for the rights to the four keys and the power of the Abyss. It was argued that the keys found on their land were legally theirs, while Arthur Barma, who came from a foreign country, didn’t have the right to hold onto his discovery.

Pandora was created in this context, both as a means to stop the conflicts and to keep researching the Abyss. Arthur Barma became the lead researcher and hence gained a status of nobility, provided that he would keep only one of the four keys, and that the Rainsworth family, who were of royal blood, would keep another. The man had accepted, on the condition that the Vessalius family would be granted the same honours.

Arthur Barma hadn’t been very objective as a historian. He had glorified Jack Vessalius in his essays, and claimed that he would have been none the wiser about the Baskervilles’ role in the Tragedy if it hadn’t been for Jack. It was rumoured that Jack had discovered Glen Baskerville’s scheme and tried to stop his friend. As a consequence, to Gilbert’s eternal dismay, Jack Vessalius was remembered as a martyr.

As for the Nightrays, they were allowed to keep the fourth key so long as they would let the other three Households monitor all their research on the Abyss. Over the years, after the blood mirrors were created, the Dukedoms gained yet more power and influence by contracting the Black Winged Chains, while the Nightrays remained unable to acquire Raven, and were left in the dark.

Just thinking about all these power struggles made Gilbert’s head hurt. It revolted him to think that Elliot had to grow up with the baggage of his family name, and that Gilbert’s former master was remembered as a bloodthirsty conspirator. Ever since he had come out of the Abyss with Oz, Vincent and the twins, he had done everything he could to correct Arthur Barma’s assumptions:

Glen Baskerville had had no reason to throw the capital into the Abyss. On the contrary, the Baskervilles’ role as messengers of the Abyss was to watch over its power and prevent it from damaging the world. The Tragedy had been the work of an illegal contractor. It was only thanks to Glen’s intervention that the rest of the world hadn’t known the same fate as Sablier. And it was only thanks to Oz that the illegal contractor, who had wandered the earth as a ghost for a century, had been stopped for good: B-Rabbit had rebelled against his first contractor, at the cost of his powers, mobility, and hard-won humanity. After they had all been thrown into the Abyss, Gilbert had contracted Oz and Alice, the dual incarnation of B-Rabbit, to prevent them from fading altogether.

But Gilbert didn’t have much in terms of solid proof: his and Vincent’s blood mirrors, which were much more advanced, proved that they came from an alternate future. More importantly, he held the fifth key to the Abyss, Glen’s pocket watch: with it, he could claim the Baskervilles’ right to be part of Pandora. Even though many doubted Gilbert’s version of the story, his knowledge was invaluable for the organization, and especially for Rufus Barma, its current lead researcher.

“To be more specific, you are as much a threat as an invaluable tool to him,” Break told Gilbert with a conspiratorial smirk. “But, depending on what happens tonight, your version of the facts may be proven true. You can be sure that the good duke will be there to confirm it with his own eyes.”

Gilbert nodded. He felt even more anxious than before, but at least he had a better idea of what to expect.

“Thank you, Break. You’re a lot better with politics than I am.”

“That’s not saying much.”

“I am _trying,_ alright?” Gilbert said, exasperated.

“Oh yes, a right workaholic you are. Sometimes you could give Reim a run for his money.”

“…Okay, no, I don’t work that hard…”

“Yes you do,” Break sing-sang. “You just can’t help the fact that you’re an incompetent fool.”

“Why you…!”

“Relax. You’re still useful, or I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

There was a brief silence. Break checked his watch to avoid Gilbert’s tentative smile:

“It is almost time for the young lady to make her vows. Get ready.”

Gilbert looked up sharply. Everybody had stopped dancing. The guests were moving in small chattering groups like a silky tidal wave to the shore. They gathered on either side of the great staircase that led to the Silent Clock.

“Hurry up, Raven, we need to get closer!”

Alice grabbed his arm and pulled him forward with surprising force. Break had already vanished. Gilbert and Alice pushed and shoved to make their way through the crowd until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Gilbert gripped the guardrail firmly. Alice slowly untied Oz from her waist, ready for battle if it came to that.

“Look,” she whispered. “The clown is up here.”

Indeed, to his surprise, Gilbert could see Break standing at the top of the stairs with Sharon, who was holding a white cloth in her hands.

“He is escorting Sharon,” Gilbert whispered back. “She will be welcoming Lady Lorina in the noble society as her closest friend.”

He could hear hushed tattling all around him. It suddenly occurred to him how strategic this show of friendship must look to some guests: Lorina had opened the dance with someone who belonged to both the Nightray and Baskerville Households, and was soon to be formally acknowledged as the Rainsworth heiress’ best friend. In the eyes of her fellow noblemen and women, Lorina Vessalius was showing off her influence.

Gilbert gripped the guardrail tighter to stop his hand from shaking. He, too, had grown up in this world of pretence, but he never had the brains to exploit it nor the courage to oppose it directly. But Oz had had both. Gilbert remembered the confidence and earnestness with which Oz had asked him to attend his Coming of Age Ceremony as his best friend. Oz had been fully aware of the gossip he would attract for choosing an orphaned servant over a fellow nobleman on such an important day, and he hadn’t cared one bit.

“Do you feel anything strange, Raven?” Alice peered up at him.

“I was just thinking that it’s unfair,” Gilbert didn’t bother to whisper, which earned him startled gasps from the nearest guests. “How some people assume that Lady Lorina and Lady Sharon have made an alliance for their own interests. Anyone can tell that they are friends.”

“Is that why you look so angry?” Alice asked in disbelief. “Sometimes I don’t get you at all.”

Gilbert smiled. Alice might have less trouble understanding noble etiquette than before, but she still failed to see the point of it all; if Oz was indifferent to the opinion of others concerning his friends, Alice was completely immune to it. It was refreshing.

“You’re right. We have more important things to worry about.”

The crowd lowered its mutters until silence fell on the vast room. Nothing could be heard aside from the heavy rain against the windows and the occasional snap of thunder. The storm was getting closer.

Zai was standing on the first floor with the sword of baptism in his hands. Lorina kneeled before him, and her father’s voice carried easily over the storm outside. Gilbert couldn’t suppress a shudder at the sound of this solemn booming voice over the thunder.

_“Your crime is your very existence.”_

Gilbert gritted his teeth against the onslaught of memories.

‘It will be fine,’ he told himself over and over. ‘I am no longer the helpless little boy I was back then. Raven is with me. I can protect Oz and Alice.’

He glanced over at Break for reassurance. The servant blended in the shadows with an expression to match Sharon’s serene smile. The two of them looked completely unthreatening. Gilbert had lost all hope of mastering their stoicism.

He jumped out of his skin when Zai proclaimed that Lorina could now make her vows.

The lass rose to her feet and climbed the stairs without a backwards glance. Even from this distance, Gilbert could see the tense line of her shoulders. He exchanged a quick glance with Alice, who held Oz to her chest with a determined expression. They both kept their eyes on Lorina as she dropped to one knee and lay a gloved hand on the Silent Clock:

“I, Lorina Vessalius, swear to bring honour to the Vessalius Household until my dying day,” her voice was clear and steady above the pouring rain. “May my family, kinsmen and kinswomen, stand witness to this solemn vow.”

Lightning struck and lit up the room in blinding white light. In the same second, the Silent Clock came to life.

There was a collective exclamation of surprise as the huge clock broke its silence for the first time in a hundred years. Twelve resounding strikes drowned the thunder. Then, silence. Gilbert looked round. The assistance had been frozen in place, their mouths hanging open in mute shock. He made to touch Oscar and the former Will of the Abyss, but his hand went right through them.

Time had stopped. Just like that day…

“Lorina!”

Zai climbed the stairs four at a time to reach his daughter, who staggered back and looked over the frozen guests with wide eyes. Break and Sharon had already moved to shield her from either side. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gilbert saw the Pandora agents detach themselves from the crowd and rush into position.

‘It’s just as Vincent thought,’ Gilbert realized. ‘Chains and contractors aren’t affected.’

“A path is opening, Raven!” Alice rushed after Zai, closely followed by Gilbert. “Something’s trying to get out!”

“A Chain?” Gilbert took off his left glove hurriedly.

“No, it’s something else,” her voice trembled with apprehension. “I’ve never felt anything like it… Hurry!”

Their fellow Baskervilles fell into step behind them. Gilbert forced his building fear to the far back of his mind. Whatever was coming, they could face it together.

“Looks like you were right on the money,” Zwei grinned at him from under her dark hood. “What happens next? Isn’t this the part when Alice gets out of the Abyss? Oh wait, she’s already there…”

“It could be anything,” Fang unsheathed his sword. “Get ready!”

Gilbert made it first to the top of the stairs. The clock’s shadow was spreading and simmering, its borders sparking with static electricity. He could hear a gurgling noise within.

Something emerged from the darkness like a dripping corpse breaking the surface. Even the cloth it wore seemed to be made out of liquid.

When it spoke, its voice spread like ripples in the air:

**_“Where is Glen?”_ **

Gilbert felt a full-body shudder. That voice. He knew that voice.

**_“Where are you hiding him?”_ **

He could see a wrinkled face as old as time, blind glassy eyes and a toothless mouth. Could vaguely hear a horrified scream from behind. But his surroundings were fading into the background as that voice from beyond the grave crawled its way to the forefront of his mind.

“Who are you?”

His own voice seemed to come from very far away. Gilbert had to make a conscious effort to speak. His head hurt so much it felt like it was about to burst open. The old figure’s sightless eyes pinned him to the ground when it spoke next. _That same gravelly voice from a hundred years ago, he thought he had it under control…_

**_“We, the Jury, should be able to locate Glen Baskerville and guide him. You are no longer qualified to be his successor. The former Glen should have been reincarnated by now. How did you manage to keep him from us?”_ **

_They were after Leo._

“What do you want with him?” Gilbert squinted his eyes to hold the intruder’s empty gaze. Cold sweat stuck to his eyelashes. It blurred his vision.

**_“Glen Baskerville’s role is to protect the Abyss. Our duty is to watch over Glen. We must make sure that he fulfils his.”_ **

“I have never heard about this,” Fang’s voice cut in the fog invading Gilbert’s mind. “This is the first time we meet. Do you come from Sablier?”

Gilbert briefly became aware of his surroundings again: the Baskervilles and Pandora’s contractors had the tall figure surrounded from all sides, weapons drawn. Zai was standing between the Silent Clock and his daughter.

‘Lorina doesn’t have a Chain… How can she move…?’

**_“Our origin is beyond your comprehension,”_** the stranger gave a toothless smile, and the vice of that voice closed on Gilbert’s mind again. Even thinking hurt, make it _stop…!_ **_“We came into being before the Abyss did. Our purpose is to watch over the worlds the Core creates: every different time, every alternate reality has an assigned Jury to watch over it.”_** The blind eyes seemed to fill the room as the stranger’s smirk widened: **_“We make sure that each world meets its proper end.”_**

“What’s the meaning of this?” Was that Zai? It was hard to keep track… _Focus, don’t let it get to you!_ “Were you involved in Sablier’s destruction?”

**_“We do not get involved. Those who successfully contract a Chain may use the power of the Abyss as they please. Sablier’s fate was the work of one such contractor and his Chain. We are merely watchers.”_ **

“…That’s a lie.”

The Jury turned their unseeing eyes towards Gilbert. His voice had come out raspy. He could barely articulate around his coated tongue. Just looking into those eyes clouded his mind.

“I remember you,” he clung to his repulsed anger and held that gaze. “You tried to use me. Back in Sablier, when I found Master Glen, you put a spell on me. You did the same thing to my Master, didn’t you?” he asked through gritted teeth.

The Jury’s expression didn’t waver.

_**“That was merely a precaution…”** _

“What?” Lorina exclaimed, horrified. “What spell? What did you do to him?”

The hooded figure did a double-take and gave a shrill scream:

_**“A Child of Misfortune! What is she doing here?”** _

Lorina gasped in terror and retreated into the arms of her father, who glared at the Jury fiercely:

“What did you just call her?”

_**“She shouldn’t be here!”**_ the Jury screeched. **_“Those born with red eyes cause disturbance around them! Children like her shouldn’t exist!”_**

Those words enraged Gilbert enough to shake him out of his trance:

“How _dare_ you…!”

“Those are nothing but old superstitions!” Zai shouted at the same time.

**_“Ignorant fools,”_** the Jury’s harsh whisper silenced them both. **_“Those children have the power to influence the Core of the Abyss itself. Their very existence is a threat to the stability of your world.”_** Their blind eyes bore into Gilbert’s once again. **_“You know that better than anyone, don’t you, Gilbert?”_**

“It’s not true,” he closed his eyes, but the accusatory glare still pierced him, burning right through his eyelids. “It’s not true....”

“Raven? What’s wrong with you?”

**_“Your world narrowly escaped its fate twice,”_** the Jury advanced on Gilbert. Alice’s voice was drowned. **_“It should already have disappeared into the Abyss. That would have been a satisfying conclusion…”_**

“Damn it,” Zwei cursed under her breath. “Fang, Dledum’s strings don’t work on that thing!”

**_“Thanks to Glen’s intervention, this world could mend itself. The Abyss has returned to the state it used to be, and the Baskervilles’ story can go on smoothly. However, as long as Children of Misfortune are around…”_ **

Gilbert could hear shocked screams in the distance, “My Chain won’t come out!” “What is that thing?” and half-formed thoughts in his mind, ‘they don’t fear the power of the Abyss,’ ‘they can control Glen…!’

…but everything was blurring together and fading away before the commanding voice that ate at his thoughts and burned his left arm…

**_“You should have been Glen,”_** it said, absolute and inescapable, **_“And it was a Child of Misfortune who stopped the ceremony, wasn’t it? It is high time we put an end to this. Since Glen isn’t here, you will carry out your master’s duty.”_**

His left hand was already raised.

**_“Do it, Gilbert. Send those accursed children into the Abyss!”_ **

Before Gilbert had the time to think, Raven was out. The giant bird breathed long flames through the heavy chains that obstructed its beak. It pulled at the metal with all its might. Gilbert gripped his left arm tightly:

“No… _No!_ ”

**_“Do it! Kill your master’s enemies!”_ **

Chains burst from the floor and wrapped themselves around Lorina, Alice and Break. Zai was caught in the middle, unable to summon his own Chain under the strain. Sharon screamed and screamed, but Eques wouldn’t answer.

“Raven, stop!”

In his panic, Gilbert turned a desperate gaze towards Alice. She was fighting like the very devil against the chains that entrapped her. Raven’s seal was bounding her powers as tightly as her body. Her small plush rabbit was crushed between the chains and her chest. He could only see one of Oz’s dark eyes.

A passage lit up under their feet.

**_Kill your master’s enemies._ **

_No!_

Gilbert reached out for them. They started to sink. The tip of Oz’s ears disappeared under the heavy chains.

**_Kill._ **

_Call my name._

“ _Oz!_ ”

There was a great quake. A hot flare of pain pierced through Gilbert’s left arm. More chains burst out from the floor and wrapped themselves around the shaking limb. Raven closed its beak on the chains trapping it. A dark shape started to form above Alice.

**_“Impossible!”_** the Jury screamed. **_“That creature can’t still be alive! Gilbert, you must kill it now! All Children of Misfortune must die!”_**

**_Kill!_ **

“Oz!” Gilbert kept shouting desperately. This name was the only thing that kept the imperious commands at bay. “ _Oz!_ ”

And suddenly he could see him. The great figure above Alice was still vague, its contours blurred, but there was a grace to the way it moved, a smooth accuracy that Alice always lacked in her brutal displays of power. Gilbert stared wide-eyed, half-blind from pain, fear and sudden, burning hope. Could it really be…

Two clawed hands emerged from the darkness and grabbed the long chain in Raven’s beak from either side. The bird answered with a wide grin. A tongue of blue fire engulfed the chain. The claws only dug deeper into the incandescent metal. The chains around Gilbert’s left arm tightened at the same time.

The man let out a scream. The red-hot metal burnt right through his skin. He smelt burning flesh, fur and feathers. There was nothing but pain and this sickening smell, even the screams in his head were dying, burnt to a crisp, howling in agony, gone with the scorching wind, he couldn’t think, it hurt so much…!

The chains shattered.

Gilbert gasped. It felt like his very first taste of air after a dive in a sea of fire.

He blinked rapidly to try and see through his tears, eyes trained on the blue light above him. The flames intensified, but they no longer hurt him. Free of all restraint, Raven drew itself up to its full height, its beak opened wide in a victorious caw. The pentacle disappeared with a flap of its fiery wing.

The remaining chains shattered into a million pieces that vanished with the pentacle. The great figure before Raven collapsed along with the freed contractors.

“ _Oz!_ ” Gilbert rushed towards the smell of burnt fur. “Oz, are you hurt? Let me see your hands!”

Raven shook itself and spread its wings as far as they would go, shielding Gilbert and his second Chain. Blue flames licked its beak as it clicked in satisfaction, free of all boundaries, ready to strike down anyone who dared approach.

There was a flash of lightning. The Black Rabbit was there, an immobile heap on the floor. The Chain didn’t make a sound when Gilbert took the back of its huge fingers and turned its hand over. The smell of burnt flesh and fur assaulted the man’s nose. Gilbert whimpered at the sight of its bloody palms:

‘They’re not healing!’

“Hold on, Oz, I’ve got you,” Gilbert murmured in Oz’s long furry ear. His voice was trembling so badly he had trouble understanding himself. “Please stay with me. Open your eyes.”

There was a pregnant pause. Gilbert kept his hand pressed against the pulse at Oz’s neck and his eyes trained on his heavy head. The black eyelids, as big as Gilbert’s hand, shivered. The man caught a glimpse of blood red underneath.

“Oz,” in spite of the grim situation and his terror at Oz’s state, Gilbert couldn’t help the wonder in his voice. “Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can hear me.”

The red eye widened. Its black pupil focused on Gilbert. Oz struggled to keep it open. He blinked twice, purposefully.

“Oh thank God…” Gilbert’s vision blurred with fresh tears. “Thank God…!”

Only then did he become aware of the voices around them.

“…just happened? Did B-Rabbit break the seal on its own?” asked Zwei, horrified.

“It’s not just the seal,” Fang said. “Something else was restraining Raven. I always thought those chains were an integral part of its power, but now…”

**_“You have no idea what you just did!”_** the Jury exclaimed. **_“Raven is the link between us and Glen Baskerville! To break this link will have unfathomable consequences! Your world will spin out of control!”_**

“Out of _your_ control, you mean?”

The tip of Break’s sword was at the Jury’s throat. They gave an anguished scream and slithered away:

**_“Don’t come near me, Child of Misfortune!”_ **

“And why not?” Break followed their every move. No matter where they turned, the Jury couldn’t escape his sword. “You don’t seem to fear any of our Chains’ powers, aside from B-Rabbit’s. And Lady Lorina Vessalius is not even a contractor. Why are our red eyes so scary to you?” The Jury was shaking their head from side to side, looking blindly for an escape. “Is it because you can’t see us?”

**_“Don’t get any closer!”_ **

“Is it because you can’t hurt us? ‘Children of Misfortune,’ as you say?” Break’s smirk turned vicious: “Or simply because we are the only ones who can hurt you?”

There was an ear-piercing, blood-curling scream.

“I thought so,” Break sing-sang. Inky-black blood pearled at the Jury’s neck and slid down his blade. “No wonder you are so desperate to send us all into the Abyss. Too bad your little slave just broke his chains.”

“Good work, Hatter,” a tenor voice broke in on the exchange. “Hold this person in place for me, will you? I will take it from here.”

Break squinted his eyes at the newcomer, who was taking his sweet time climbing the stairs to join them. Gilbert didn’t recognize him: a man in his late forties dressed all in black and dark red, with short, thick brown hair combed back to reveal a narrow, ashen face; but the smug grin he wore was all too familiar. Five contractors surrounded him at once, shielding him from all sides.

“Duke Barma, I presume?” Break gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgement. “How kind of you to join us after we have brought the situation under control.”

The man waved the remark off and marched towards the cornered Jury, who was moaning in pain under Break’s relentless sword.

“I have a lot of questions to ask you, Jury… or whatever you call yourself,” Duke Barma told them. “You’d better answer truthfully if you want the Hatter to let you go. Firstly, was this young lady the one who opened the Gate tonight? Without the power of a Chain?”

**_“She is a Child of Misfortune!”_** the Jury rasped out. **_“This is only the least of what those children are capable of! You can’t let them live!”_**

“You will not speak of my daughter this way,” Zai cut in. The other duke ignored him:

“Yet it was only thanks to her that you could get out of the Abyss. Can’t you open the Gate on your own?”

**_“We will only appear before Glen… But this time, the one we found was Gilbert.”_ ** The Jury rounded on him and screamed when the wound at their neck widened: **_“You must tell us, Gilbert! Where is your master?”_**

Gilbert glared at the Jury defiantly: “You want to brainwash him? Like you did for every Glen before him?”

**_“Unconditional loyalty to the cause is the condition to become Glen Baskerville. Without our guidance, he would lead the world to ruin!”_ **

Gilbert exploded:

“Shut up! You didn’t lift a finger to help Glen stop the Tragedy of Sablier! You did nothing to save the world when Oz’s contractor came back! All you ever did was force the Baskervilles to hunt down innocent people and throw them into the Abyss!”

**_“Traitor,”_** the toothless mouth spat. **_“How dare you question your master’s decisions?”_**

“They were never his decisions, those were your commands! And Glen Baskerville is no longer my master,” he leaned into the giant rabbit’s warm fur, and trained his gun on the Jury. “I am Oz’s servant.”

**_“You fool,”_** the shrill voice deepened in its rage. ** _“Do you think you can defy us? You are nothing but ignorant pawns, all of you. We know everything about your world, every possible past and future. We could reveal the entire truth about what happened a hundred years ago…”_**

“No!” Gilbert threw a panicked glance towards Zai and Lorina. “Don’t say a word!”

Rufus Barma smirked:

“There is no need to react so strongly, Raven. I already know all about it.”

Gilbert gripped Oz’s large shoulder: “You can’t possibly…”

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” the duke shrugged grandly. “Tell me, Jury: you pretend to have witnessed everything that happened at the Tragedy of Sablier, but do you know how the Gate to the Abyss was opened?”

The Jury was silent.

“As I thought,” the duke’s superior smile widened. “Fortunately, Lady Lorina gave us the answer tonight: only a person with red eyes can open a path to the Abyss without a key, and escape the Jury’s notice. Now, Raven: there was a person with such an ability with you back in Sablier, wasn’t there?”

“You have no proof!” Lorina protested. “It happened a hundred years ago, it could have been anyone!”

“Do not interrupt your elders, young lady,” the duke threw her a reproachful glare. He turned back to Gilbert like nothing had happened: “You always claimed that Glen Baskerville was innocent, and that an illegal contractor was responsible for throwing Sablier into the Abyss. But how did he or she get their hands on such a powerful Chain as the Blood-Stained Black Rabbit, right under the Baskervilles’ nose? Impossible; unless they had a Child of Misfortune at their beck and call…”

“Don’t use that word,” Gilbert warned him.

“Touchy subject? Of course it is. Your own brother is a Child of Misfortune, after all…”

**_“Another one!”_** the Jury exclaimed. **_“You dared use a Child of Misfortune to hide Glen from us!”_**

‘They’re right,’ Gilbert realized suddenly. ‘Vincent is the one protecting Leo from the Abyss’ influence....’

“It would appear so,” Duke Barma nodded. “Vincent Nightray is entirely devoted to Lord Gilbert here, after all. And who, pray tell, is B-Rabbit’s contractor? The very same Lord Gilbert.”

“Fascinating,” Break said sarcastically. “Did you come here just to spout the gossip that everyone has been whispering for five years? And why, pray tell, would Gilbert want to throw Sablier into the Abyss?”

“These rumours deserve a little more attention now that we know how to open a Gate without a key,” the duke answered easily. “As for the motive, according to his own testimony, Gilbert was only a child at the time, barely nine years old. It seems likely that he couldn’t control such a powerful Chain as B-Rabbit properly. He ordered his little brother to open the Gate, made a contract with B-Rabbit, and the Tragedy of Sablier was the result.”

“Enough!” Lorina shouted, unmindful of Duke Barma’s warning glare. “Lord Gilbert, tell them the truth or I will do it!”

Gilbert rounded on her, alarmed: “Lady Lorina, no! You promised!”

“I made no such promise!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Oh? And what would you know about the Tragedy of Sablier, young lady?” Duke Barma asked mockingly. “There aren’t many sources you could have learnt anything from, are there?”

“Lord Gilbert let it slip the first time he came to our manor five years ago,” Lorina said. “I know the truth.”

“Another tale he fed you, then. Most likely Lord Oscar as well, or the good duke wouldn’t trust him so readily. Did it occur to you that whatever you heard was something Gilbert made up to earn your trust?”

“He wasn’t lying! He doesn’t know how to lie!”

“That’s quite enough, Lorina,” Zai restrained his daughter by the shoulder. “You know as well as I do that Duke Barma is right.”

“You don’t know anything! You have no idea what Lord Gilbert endured for us!”

“Why don’t we ask the Jury, then?” Duke Barma turned towards them with an engaging smile. “You did offer to reveal the truth, after all, and you have no reason to lie to us about Sablier, do you?”

“ ** _Indeed,”_** the Jury answered with a painful, yet confident grin. **_“Gilbert, this is your last warning…”_**

“Don’t you dare say it!”

He felt Oz move. The rabbit’s head was lolling from side to side on the floor, like Oz was trying to shake his head ‘no’ but couldn’t find the strength.

“Oz, you can’t be saying…!” Gilbert whispered urgently: “I can’t let this happen, what about Lord Oscar and your sisters?”

Oz stared at him insistently. Gilbert gulped.

**_“Send this creature and the other accursed children into the Abyss this instant or we will tell the truth.”_ **

Gilbert held Oz closer. Raven breathed fire right under the Jury’s nose. Everybody stepped back.

“Well, it is too late anyway,” Duke Barma said from the wall he was pressed against. “We all know you have been hiding something all along, Gilbert. Why don’t you reveal the name of the contractor that caused the Tragedy of Sablier?”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore,” Gilbert said through gritted teeth. “That man is long dead.”

“Unless that man was you,” Duke Barma countered.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Then why would you protect him?”

“The culprit is not the one Lord Gilbert is trying to protect!” Lorina cut in. “It’s the relative peace the Five Households have found,” she put a deliberate emphasis on ‘five.’

**_“Do it, Gilbert! And bring Glen to us!”_ **

Raven opened its beak wide, blue flames gathered in its throat and lit up the entire room. But Gilbert could feel the weight of Oz’s head against his knee. He was still shaking his head.

‘Duke Barma is right,’ Gilbert thought bitterly. ‘It’s too late. If I kill the Jury now, everyone will think I was preventing them from denouncing me. In the eyes of the world, the Baskerville and Nightray families will remain the instigators of the Tragedy of Sablier.’

He looked at Fang and Zwei, thought of Vincent, Alice and Elliot. He saw Lorina’s pleading eyes, Oscar’s frozen body downstairs, and thought of Ada sleeping in her little bed, oblivious to the world.

“You can say whatever you want,” Gilbert hissed at the Jury. “As long as you get out of here. I won’t let you touch a hair on Glen’s head, or anyone else. And I don’t want to hear the words ‘Children of Misfortune’ ever again.”

**_“You can’t keep us away forever,”_** the Jury sneered. **_“Soon, chaos will fall on your world, and Glen Baskerville will be begging us to come back. He is nothing without our insight.”_**

“That will be up to our master,” Fang said. “But in the meantime, Gilbert is our regent. And I agree with him. The Baskervilles have no need of sorcerers like you.”

**_“Very well then. Here is the last information I will give you so the story can progress smoothly. I did warn you, Gilbert.”_ ** The Jury turned back to Duke Barma with a taunting grimace: **_“You are wrong, Rufus Barma. A hundred years ago, the man who contracted B-Rabbit and tried to throw the world into the Abyss wasn’t Gilbert. It was Jack Vessalius.”_**

Silence fell upon the room. Every witness was waiting with batted breath for a denial, but no one said a word. Gilbert’s fingers tightened around the fur of Oz’s neck.

“Now get out before Raven burns you to a crisp,” he growled at the Jury. “I can barely restrain him as it is.”

Raven emphasized his words with a hissing breath of blue fire. The giant bird had been thrilled to get rid of the links that restrained him, and was all too eager to unleash its powers on its former tormentor.

The Jury shrank on themselves, their body dissolved into a bubbling mass that melted into the Silent Clock’s shadow. Its gurgling, mocking laughter disappeared last, swallowed by the gap between the Abyss and their world.

The Silent Clock shuddered with static electricity. Its needles started to turn at top speed.

“The Clock is catching up to its hundred years of silence,” Gilbert said as he remembered the conclusions Pandora had come to after examining it, in the future he came from. “Was that enough for you, Duke Barma?”

The duke was looking at the Clock with a pensive smirk. He looked like he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

“This is ridiculous,” Zai spat. “Jack Vessalius didn’t have enough influence to accomplish such a feat on his own.”

Gilbert ducked his head.

“On the contrary,” Fang said slowly, like he was thinking out loud. “Jack Vessalius was our Master’s closest friend. He might have trusted him with more information than his own subordinates. And Miranda Barma was the one who helped Jack enter the centre of noble society, wasn’t she? She might have been his accomplice.”

Duke Barma turned towards him with a raised eyebrow:

“Next you’ll be telling us the Rainsworth family was somehow involved, as well.”

In spite of the sarcasm, there was a bit of a threat to his voice. Gilbert had a brief flashback to the day Glen Baskerville had recreated the chains holding the world, the matching keys of Rufus Barma and Sheryl Rainsworth, and the way the duke had stuck to the duchess’ side.

He shook his head:

“Don’t you see? None of it matters anymore. Jack Vessalius and Miranda Barma have been dead for decades, and neither of them acted in the name of their respective families. None of the Five Households should be held responsible for what they did.”

“And isn’t it convenient that this version of the story exonerates both the Nightray and Baskerville families?” Zai sneered. “This so-called Jury was another Baskerville, and you knew they would be getting out of the Abyss today. You could have planned this entire masquerade.”

“And where do you suggest that Lord Gilbert met this person?” Sharon asked in her usual even tone. Only the strained quality of her voice and the slight flush of her cheeks gave away her previous panic attack. “In the Abyss?”

“Why not? He holds the fifth key, after all. And Raven can open the Nightray Gate anytime.”

“That’s enough,” Gilbert snapped. “I have no time to discuss this with you, I need to get Oz somewhere he can rest! You can just add those claims to your defence at the trial.”

“Gladly,” Zai glared daggers at him. “I won’t fail to mention the fact that you almost sent my daughter and Mad Hatter into the Abyss, B-Rabbit.”

Gilbert took a harsh intake of breath, shaken. His hand dug into Oz’s fur for comfort. The rabbit bowed his head to Break and Lorina. Gilbert did the same:

“I’m sorry I scared you. But it won’t happen again. Oz broke the spell the Jury had on Raven and I. And we won’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“You keep saying ‘Oz,’” Zai said scornfully. “Isn’t your Chain called Alice?”

“She’s here too,” Gilbert said. “The three of us are B-Rabbit. You know that.”

“Still delusional, I see,” Zai huffed.

“I don’t care what you think. Let us go.”

“Alright, alright,” Duke Barma shooed him off, his attention drawn to the Clock once again. “I’m looking forward to this trial you speak of.”

Fang passed Gilbert by with his huge sword thrown over his shoulder:

“Go ahead, Gilbert. Zwei and I will take care of the Silent Clock. It would be better if the guests don’t see our Chains when they come to.”

Gilbert nodded and called Raven back. The great bird shook itself in mild protest, annoyed that its time outside had to be cut short, but vanished obediently. Oz shivered as the balance of energy tipped in his favour.

“Oz, can you walk?” Gilbert asked him softly. He was short on breath from the energy they were sharing.

The rabbit nodded. He jumped down the stairs, and the ground shook when he landed. He wobbled a little, but didn’t touch a single of the frozen guests. Before Gilbert could catch up, he leapt to the Great Entrance.

As he ran after him, Gilbert could hear the hurried voices of his fellow contractors, who were trying to make sense of what had just happened. Several of them were calling him delusional or accusing the Baskervilles of staging the entire ordeal. He could hear Lorina’s indignant answers and Sharon’s quiet counterarguments. He didn’t care. They could all deal with it at the trial; he needed to get to Oz, _now._

“Oz, wait! Don’t push yourself so hard! Where are you going?”

Oz led him outside, towards the gardens. The howling wind pushed Gilbert back. He pressed on. No matter how hard he screamed, Oz wouldn’t slow down. The man couldn’t keep up with his great leaps, but the long rabbit ears were easy to spot over the trees, even in the darkness of the storm. He slalomed between the trunks, unmindful of the rain soaking him to the bone, his eyes trained on Oz, who had finally stopped. The giant rabbit tottered. He fell forward, and was swallowed by the surrounding trees.

Gilbert sprinted in his direction, slipped in the mud, got back up, ran on faster. He recognized the place at once. Oz had stopped before Lacie’s grave.

The giant rabbit lay sprawled out in the clearing, where the Pandora agents had excavated the secret grave five years ago. The hole was too narrow for Oz; only his burnt hands hung limply over the edge. His fur and clothes were drenched with muck and water. His ragged breathing came up in big, puffy clouds in the merciless rain.

“Oz!” Gilbert was by his side in an instant. He knelt in the muddy grass and cradled his Chain’s head between shaking, freezing hands. Even the gloved one had lost all sense of touch. “Oz, you can’t stay here, you’ll get worse! Don’t fall asleep, _please,_ stay with me!”

Gilbert had no idea how long he stayed there, screaming over the storm for his companion to remain conscious, terrified beyond words that the power he had released had been too much for him. He couldn’t lose him, not now, not when he was finally free, when Oz needed him most…!

“Xerx said I would find you there,” came a soft, dreamlike voice behind him.

Gilbert turned round. The first thing he saw was a pure white figure behind a curtain of rain. Alice’s sister was standing before him with her arms spread out to catch the wind. She seemed completely unaffected by the drenched state of her clothes and hair. She turned towards Oz as if she’d just remembered his presence, with the same absent-minded look:

“It’s been a while, Mister Rabbit.”

“Please help him!” Gilbert begged of her. “He’s hurt! His wounds won’t heal!”

“There’s no need to shout like that,” she swayed in the storm. “Mister Rabbit knows what he is doing: he took you here because there is a small gap to the Abyss near this grave. Now that the Silent Clock has started again, you can use the pocket watch to open a path to the Abyss.”

“To the Abyss?”

“Yes,” the former Will of the Abyss answered slowly, like she was speaking to an idiotic child, “to the Abyss, where Mister Rabbit can be fixed. Back when I was the Will of the Abyss, I broke most of my toys. But I knew how to heal any wound. All that was needed was a little flake of light from the Abyss, and my friends were good as new. That’s how I fixed Cheshire’s eye,” she said proudly.

Gilbert felt nauseous at the mere thought of Break’s eye in that beast’s eye-socket. But if he could heal Oz…

“Alice, I told you to wait up!” a masculine voice interrupted his frantic train of thought. “Come here before you catch a cold!”

Reim was running to them, careful with every step on the slippery ground, holding an open umbrella for Sharon with both hands. He was struggling against the wind, but the umbrella wasn’t really helping Sharon, who was as drenched as her two companions.

Alice let herself be coaxed under the umbrella regardless, and Sharon promptly put a thick coat on her frail shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lord Gilbert,” she said as soon as her adopted sister was bundled up. “I was powerless to do anything when the Jury appeared. If it weren’t for Lord Oz, Break would have....” She shook her head. “Anyway; Eques is back now. She will escort the both of you to the Abyss. I will bring you back as soon as Lord Oz is better.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened:

“…You believe me?”

“I believe Lady Lorina is right: you have no talent for deceit, Lord Gilbert. As extraordinary as your story is, if you witnessed it with your own eyes, then I will trust you.” In spite of her sombre look, a genuine smile graced her features: “Break might tell you otherwise, but he agrees.”

Gilbert bowed to her gratefully.

“Hold on, Oz,” he whispered in the unmoving rabbit’s ear. “You’re going to be fine.”

He pulled the golden watch out of his pocket and started to turn the small button. For the first time in five years, it gave way immediately. The minute’s needle started its journey forward, turn after turn, faster and faster, until Gilbert had to let go. Round and round the needles kept turning, as fast as the Silent Clock’s before them, until they came to an abrupt stop.

Lacie’s melody drifted from the pocket watch’s open case, its mechanical tune happy and melancholic in the heavy silence. That’s when Gilbert realized that the rain had stopped. In fact, the very taste of the air was different, heavy with static electricity, but without a smell to carry. It was the empty air of the Abyss.

Gilbert hung on to Oz and slowly raised his head. His eyes widened as he stared in mute amazement.

The Abyss was a field of gold. There was no sky above their heads; only stars, just like the ones that danced around their feet. Thousands upon thousands of lights as far as the eye could see, always moving, like golden blowballs carried by the winds of time.

Oz was very black against this sea of gold and starlit sky. He was hunkered down in the high field with his long arms on either side. His clawed hands disappeared among the airy golden flakes.

“How do you feel?” Gilbert asked, his voice soft from concern and an undercurrent wonder.

Oz turned towards him slowly. Even though his contours were still blurry, his eyes crinkled in a sleepy smile.

Gilbert grinned helplessly in response and buried his face in the crook of Oz’s neck. His fur smelt like the forest, earth and rain. A strong pulse was drumming against his ear. He had never felt more alive.

With a long, exhausted sigh, he leaned on Oz’s shoulder.

“Raven…” Gilbert looked drowsily at his left hand. “Thank you.”

As soon as he said the name, the great bird materialised in a tornado of black and gold. Among its inky feathers, wide yellow eyes opened in a fixed stare. They shone with a near-demented joy.

Gilbert smiled back:

“Go ahead and fly. Oz and I need to rest for a bit.”

Raven’s wings were already open. They were impossibly wide in this endless world. If they reached far enough, they could cast the Abyss back in its former darkness. Only this time, tiny lights danced around the black feathers like fireflies, and there were no chains to restrain Raven. It licked blue fire off its beak and took to the skies.

The bird flew fast as a bullet, leaving a whooshing trail of wind in its wake, and only Oz’s strong body anchored Gilbert against its shove. Soon, Raven was nothing but a black star in the golden sky. It shone blue, and its distant laughter echoed all the way to Oz and Gilbert.

This, Gilbert thought, must be what freedom tasted like.

“You should have done this years ago,” he scolded Oz. “Why didn’t you?”

The rabbit was avoiding his gaze. He could feel it shaking under him.

“You still can’t talk,” Gilbert felt a pang of disappointment. “…Were you afraid your power would hurt me?”

Oz’s eyes met his at last. They were wide with a lingering terror that made Gilbert shiver in synch with his Chain. He had seen that look on Oz’s human face before, however briefly, in his half-conscious state: it was on the night of his first Coming of Age Ceremony, after his young master had accidentally stabbed him.

Gilbert’s eyes widened in sudden realization:

“You were afraid it would kill me.”

Oz shut his eyes tight. The tremors that shook him intensified. Gilbert had to cling to his fur not to slide off. He reached out with his free hand and let it rest on a soft spot between Oz’s eyes. At long last, they opened hesitantly. They were shining with fear. Gilbert smiled at him:

“I’m fine, Oz. We both are,” he said softly. “We can fight together. So never hide your plans from me or Alice again, alright?”

The hesitant look wavered, but didn’t vanish. Gilbert shook his head fondly:

“Didn’t I tell you? I can take the burden of your powers. You shouldn’t be afraid to use them when you have to. And you _had_ to: I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself otherwise,” his voice turned bitter. “Alice, Break, Lady Lorina… I would have killed them all. Even you...”

He felt a push against his hand. Small drops were gathering all around it, lighting Oz’s eyes with specks of gold. They were still fearful, but their stare was more insistent. Gilbert gave him a solemn nod. For the very first time, his head felt clear, without a whisper in the back of his mind. He felt a self-confidence he never knew he had:

“It’s over now. Jack is gone. The Jury is gone. No one can control us anymore.”

Oz’s eyes stayed fixed on him as if he barely recognized him. Gilbert felt himself blushing under the scrutiny, but he held it with a broad smile. At last, Oz closed his eyes with a long, relieved sigh. He nodded in response, and leaned his head against his contractor’s side.

In a half-asleep daze, he and Oz played with the floating lights passing them by. Warmth settled everywhere they touched. Shining flecks slipped through their fingers, others stuck to Oz’s burnt palms and Gilbert’s left arm. More of them gathered around his chest before drifting away. Gilbert chuckled:

“Looks like this scar won’t be healing anytime soon.”

The rabbit lowered his ears. A cloud passed over the bright red of his eyes. Gilbert smiled:

“Don’t look so despondent, Oz. You were just trying to protect me. And even after all this time, you still are,” he held out his left arm, engulfed in golden light. The limb could hardly be seen underneath. “You set me free.”

Oz looked up at Raven as it soared through the light, far above their heads. His look softened, and he inclined his head in a slow nod.

“It’s funny,” Gilbert said. “I had so much to ask you. These past five years, I’ve been desperate to talk to you again… But somehow, just being together like this makes me happy. Don’t you agree?”

He searched the rabbit’s face as Oz considered it. After a few moments, the light was back in his eyes. He gave another, more heartfelt nod. Gilbert leaned against him, feeling happier than he had been in years.

“We can make this work,” he said with conviction. “Zwei may be right, after all: if you’re recovering some of your power, you might be able to borrow my body from time to time. Or Alice’s body, if that’s okay with her. This way, you can enjoy life as a human being again.” He smiled wistfully: “It’s not the same as having your old body back… but it’s a start, right?”

The rabbit gave him a light shove with his head. Gilbert fell with a yelp, and the flakes of lights were sent dancing all around him.

“What was that for?” Gilbert asked, outraged.

Instead of answering, Oz started to play with his hair, using the tips of his fingers, right under the claws. A bubble of happiness expanded in Gilbert’s chest at this show of mischievous tenderness that was so _Oz._

“…You’re calling me an idiot, aren’t you?” he asked sheepishly.

Oz’s eyes crinkled again and he gave a firm nod without stopping his ministrations. Gilbert sighed heavily, letting out air so the bubble in his chest wouldn’t explode. He watched the trails of light that followed Oz’s fingers like the tail of a comet:

“Does it hurt?”

Oz shook his head ‘no.’ He paused his rubbing, let his forefinger rest atop Gilbert’s head. After some hesitation, he pointed to the man’s left arm.

“Don’t worry, it no longer hurts, either. In fact, I’ve never felt better! It’s probably going to leave scars, though,” he said brightly. Oz scowled disapprovingly. He reminded Gilbert a little of Alice, like this.

“Is Alice alright?”

Oz nodded again, more slowly this time. Gilbert smiled sadly:

“She is going to take over soon, isn’t she?”

Another nod. Gilbert mirrored the gesture. Some of his hair was pulled back from the movement, caught under the rabbit’s claw.

“Will you come back?”

Oz’s ears drooped. He made no other move to answer. Gilbert pressed his unharmed hand against the rabbit’s side and let his fingers sink in the rough fur there. The smell of burnt flesh had faded, but Oz’s contours were getting blurrier already.

“It will be okay,” Gilbert murmured. “Everything will be okay. There is still a lot to do, for our families and the other Households, it might be years before they can finally trust each other… but we will figure something out. I know it. Lord Oscar is right: we are no longer alone. And with everyone’s help, we will do what it takes to bring the Five Households together.”

The more he talked, the more optimistic he got:

“And just knowing that you’re here with us… it’s enough for me. Until we find a solution, we will keep protecting this world together. So we always have a home to return to.”

Oz’s fingers slid slowly down his body, followed the curve of his hair, the nape of his neck and the line of his spine before settling at the small of his back. Gilbert was pushed forward, against Oz’s big muzzle. The soft base of a long ear caressed his cheek as Oz nuzzled his chest. He could feel moisture on his furry eyelids.

Gilbert wrapped his arms around his Chain’s head in a tight hug, shaking with a single, violent sob. The deep layer of light covering his arm exploded into a flight of feathery drops. The outline of Oz’s body blurred in as the light fell back on them both.

“We’ll always be together, Oz,” Gilbert spoke into the warm fur. “You, Alice, and I. I won’t let anything come between us, I promise.”

His fur was getting softer. The rabbit leant more heavily into him, until Gilbert was leaning back; yet his weight was getting lighter. Gilbert kept calling his name and squinting his eyes to try and see through the invading golden light, but Oz had already been engulfed in it. All that was left was a feather-light body in his arms, and the soft plush his face was pressed against.

“Raven.”

Gilbert felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down.

Alice was there, the surrounding light reflected in her big amethyst eyes, her expression oddly subdued. Flecks of gold clung to her long dark hair and blood red evening clothes in a surreal halo. She looked more solid than anything in this floating world.

Gilbert wrapped her into a hug. More golden rain fell away as he held her tight. He could see them both clearly now: Alice, who clung to him possessively, and Oz, squeezed between their bodies with his face pressed against Gilbert’s neck. There were burn marks on his small plush hands.

“You both got hurt again,” Alice grumbled. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes....”

Gilbert threw a sheepish glance at the burns on his own left arm, the red-hot links of Oz’s chains deeply imprinted in his flesh.

“You’re right,” he petted Alice’s head. “I’m sorry for scaring you. But we all pulled through somehow.”

She leaned into the touch, and took his hand as soon as he made to pull away. Gilbert clutched her hand and held Oz close.

The three of them stared in silence at the starlit world surrounding them. The golden lights flew around them in a strong whirlwind as Raven came back. It flapped its fiery wings one final time, and vanished in a whisper of black feathers. Its seal was back in place; Gilbert could feel both of his Chains’ hearts beat a steady rhythm against his ribcage.

Lacie’s melody was drifting along with the golden flakes in the empty air. Gilbert looked down at his shadow, the only pitch of darkness that could be seen on the luminous ground, shivering from Eques’ watchful presence.

When the song ended, Gilbert closed the pocket watch:

“Come on, Oz, Alice. We’re going home.”


End file.
